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HUMBOLDT    LIBRARY.    [No.  17. 


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PROGRESS: 

ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE 

With  Other  Disquisitions. 


BY 


■  HERBERT    SPENCER. 


Cataloffue  of  tlie  Library. 
(Cpiitinuefl  from  last' page  of  covor.) 

0.  40,     The'  Scientific  Evidence  of  Organic  Evolution,  by  Geo.  J.  Romanes,  F.R.S. 

'     41.     Current  Discussions  in  Science by  W.  M.  Williams,  F.R.A.S. 

'     42.     The  History  of  the  Science^  of  Politics by  Fredekick  Pollock. 

'     43.     Darwin  and  Humboldt,  by  Prok.  IIdxlev,  Prof.  Agassiz,  and  others. 

08.  44,  45.     The  Dawn  of  History Edited  by  C.  F.  Keary,  M. A. 

o.  46.'   The  Diseases  of  Memory by.  Ti-.  Ribot. 

'     47.     The  Childhood  of  Religions by  Edward  Clodd. 

■     48.    Life  in  Nature by  James  Hinton. 

'     49.     The  Sun:  its  Constitution;  its  Phenomena;  its  Condition, 

by  Nathan  T.  Carr,  LL.D. 

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No.  17.] 


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PEOGEESS: 

ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE ; 

WITH  OTHER  DISQUISITIONS,  VIZ.: 

THE  PUYSIOLOGY  OF  LAUGHTER— ORIGIN  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MUSIC— 

THE  SOCIAL  ORGANISM— USE  AND  BEAUTY— THE 

USE  OF  ANTHROPOMORPHISM. 

BY 

HERBERT   SPENCER. 


PROGRESS  :   ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE. 

The  current  conception  of  progress  is 
somewhat  shiftinj;:  and  indefinite.  Some- 
times it  comprehends  little  mare  tiian  simple 
growth— as  of  a  nation  in  the  number  of  its 
members  and  the  extent  of  territory  over 
which  it  has  spread.  Sometimes  it  has  ref- 
erence to  quantity  of  nmlcrial  products— as 
when  the  advance  of  auriculture  and  manu- 
factures is  the  topic.  Sometimes  the  supenot 
quality  o-f  these  products  is  contemplated  : 
and  sometimes  the  new  or  improved  appli- 
ances by  which  they  are  produced.  When, 
again,  we  speak  of  moral  or  intellectual  prog- 
ress, we  refer  to  the  state  of  the  individual 
or  people  exhibiting  it  ;  while,  when  the 
progress  of  knowledge,  of  science,  of  art,  is 
commented  upon,  we  have  in  view  certain 
abstract  results  of  human  thought  and  action. 
Not  only,  however,  is  the  current  conception 
of  progress  more  or  less  vague,  but  it  is  in 
^eat  measure  erroneous.    It  takes  in  not  so 


much  the  reality  of  progress  as  its  accom> 

panimenls — not  so  much  the  substance  as  tha 
shallow.  That  progress  in  intelligence  seeo 
during  the  growth  of  the  child  into  the  man, 
or  the  savage  into  the  philosopher,  is  com- 
monly regarded  as  consisting  in  the  greater 
number  of  facts  known  and  laws  under- 
stood :  whereas  the  actual  progress  consists 
in  those  internal  modifications  of  which  this 
increased  knowledge  is  the  expression. 
Social  progress  is  supposed  to  consist  in  the 
produce  of  a  greater  quantity  and  variety  of 
the  articles  required  for  satisfying  men's 
Wants  ;  in  the  increasing  security  of  person 
and  property ;  in  widening  freedom  of 
action  :  whereas,  rightly  understood,  social 
progress  consists  in  those  changes  of  struc- 
ture in  the  social  organispi  which  have 
entailed  these  consequences.  The  current 
conception  is  a  teleological  one.  The  phe- 
nomena are  contemplated  solely  as  bearing 
on  human  happiness.  Only  those  changes 
are  held  to  constitute  progress  which  directly 
or  indirectly  tend  to  heighten  human  happi- 


234 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


ness.  And  they  are  thought  to  constitute 
progress  simply  because  they  tend  to  height- 
en human  happiness.  But  rightly  to  under- 
stand progress,  we  must  inquire  what  is  the 
nature  of  these  changes,  considered  apart 
from  our  interests.  Ceasing,  for  example,  to 
regard  the  successive  geological  modifica- 
tions that  have  taken  place  in  the  earth,  as 
modifications  that  have  gradually  fitted  it  for 
tlic  habitation  of  man,  and  as  therefore  a 
geological  progress,  we  must  seek  to  deter- 
mine the  character  common  to  these  modifi- 
calions — the  law  to  whicli  they  all  conform. 
And  similarly  in  every  other  case.  Leaving 
out  of  sight  concomitants  and  beneficial  con- 
sequences, let  us  ask  what  progress  is  in 
itself. 

In  respect  to  that  progress  which  individ- 
ual organisms  display  iti  the  course  of  their 
evolution,  this  question  has  been  answered 
by  the  Germans.  The  investigations  of 
Wolflf,  Goethe,  and  Von  Baer  have  estab- 
lished the  truth  that  the  series  of  changes 
gone  through  during  the  development  of  a 
seed  into  a  tree,  or  an  ovum  into  an  animal, 
constitute  an  advance  from  homogeneity  of 
structure  to  heterogeneity  of  structure.  In 
its  primary  stage,  every  germ  consists  of  a 
substance  that  is  uniform  throughout,  both 
in  texture  and  chemical  composition.  The 
first  step  is  the  appearance  of  a  difference 
between  two  parts  of  this  substance  ;  or,  as 
Hie  phenomenon  is  called  in  physiological 
Language,  a  differentiation.  Each  of  these 
differentiated  divisions  presently  begins  itself 
to  exhibit  some  contrast  of  parts  ;  and  by 
and  by  these  secondary  differentiations  be- 
come as  definite  as  the  original  one.  This 
process  is  continuously  repeated — is  simul- 
taneously going  on  in  all  parts  of  the  grow- 
ing embryo  ;  and  by  endless  such  diffcreu- 
tations  there  is  finally  produced  that  complex 
combination  of  tissues  and  organs  constitut- 
ing the  adult  animal  or  plant.  This  is  the 
history  of  3.11  organisms  whatever.  It  is  set- 
tlcii  bei^oud  dispute  that  organic  progress 
consists  in  a  chang;;  from  the  homogeneous 
to  the  heterogeneous. 

Now,  we  propose  in  the  first  place  to 
jfciow,  tliat  this  law  of  organic  prrjgress  is  the 
law  of  all  progress.  Whether  it  be  in  the 
development  of  the  earth,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  life  upon  its  surface,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  society,  of  government,  of  manufac- 
tures, of  commerce,  of  language,  literature, 
science,  art,  this  same  evolution  of  the  simple 
into  the  complex,  through  successive  dif- 
ferentiations, holds  througiiout.  From  the 
earliest  traceable  cosraical  changes  down  to 
the  latest  results  of  civilization,  we  shall  find 
that  the  transformation  of  the  liomogeneous 
into  the  heterogeneous,  is  that  in  which  prog- 
ress essentially  consists. 

With  the  view  of  showing  that  if  the 
nebular  hypothesis  be  true,  the  genesis  of 
the  solar  system  supplies  one  illustration  of 
this  law,  let  us  assume  that  the  matter  of 
which  the  sun  and  planets  consist  was  once 
in  a  diffused  form  ;  and  that  from  the  grav- 


itation of  its  atoms  there  resulted  a  gradual 
concentration.  By  the  hypothesis,  the  solar 
system  in  its  nascent  state  existed  as  an  in- 
definitely extended  and  nearly  horaogencoiii 
medium — a  medium  almost  homogeneous  in 
density,  iu  temperature,  and  in  other  physi- 
cal attributes.  The  first  advance  toward 
consolidation  resulted  in  a  differentiation  lie 
tween  the  occupied  space  which  the  nebulous 
mass  still  tilled,  and  the  unoccupied  space 
which  it  previously  filled.  There  simultane- 
ously resulted  a  contrast  in  density  and  a 
contrast  in  temperature,  between  the  interior 
and  the  exterior  of  this  mass.  And  at  the 
same  time  there  arose  throughout  it  rotatory 
movements,  whose  velocities  varied  accord- 
ing to  their  distances  from  its  centre.  These 
differentiations  increased  in  number  and  de- 
gree until  there  was  evolved  the  organized 
group  of  sun,  planets,  and  satellites,  which 
we  now  know — a  group  which  presents 
numerous  contrasts  of  structure  and  action 
among  its  members.  There  are  the  immense 
contrasts  between  the  sun  and  planets,  in 
bulk  and  in  weight ;  as  well  as  the  subordi- 
nate contrasts  between  one  planet  and 
another,  and  between  the  planets  and  their 
satellites.  There  is  the  similarly  marked 
contrast  between  the  sun  as  almost  station- 
ary, and  the  planets  as  moving  round  him 
with  great  velocity  ;  while  there  are  the  sec- 
ondary contrasts  between  the  velocities  and 
periods  of  the  several  planets,  and  between 
their  simple  revolutions  and  the  double  ones 
of  their  satellites,  which  have  to  move  round 
their  primaries  while  moving  round  the  sua. 
There  is  the  yet  further  strong  contrast  be- 
tween the  sun  and  the  planets  in  respect  of 
(.wnperature  ;  and  there  is  reason  to  suppose 
Ihat  the  planets  and  satellites  differ  from 
each  other  in  their  proper  heat,  as  well  as  in 
Bie  heat  they  receive  from  the  sun. 

When  we  bear  in  mind  that,  in  addition  to 
iiese  various  contrasts,  the  planets  and  satel- 
lites also  differ  iu  respect  to  their  distances 
from  each  other  and  their  primary — in  re- 
spect to  the  inclinations  of  their  orbits,  the 
inclinations  of  their  axes,  their  times  of  rota- 
tion ou  their  axes,  their  specific  gravities, 
and  their  physical  constitutions — we  see 
what  a  high  degree  of  heterogeneity  the  solar 
system  exhibits,  when  compared  with  the 
almost  comj)lete  homogeneity  of  the  nebu- 
lous mass  cut  of  which  it  is  supposed  to  have 
originated. 

Passing  from  this  hypothetical  illustration, 
which  must  be  taken  for  what  it  is  worth, 
without  prejudice  to  the  general  argument, 
let  us  descend  to  a  more  certain  order  of  evi- 
dence. It  is  now  generally  agreed  among 
geologists  that  the  earth  was  at  first  a  mass 
of  molten  matter  ;  and  that  it  is  still  tluid  and 
incandescent  at  the  distance  of  a  few  miles 
beneath  its  surface.  Originally,  then,  it  was 
homogeneous  in  consistence,  and,  in  virtue 
of  the  circulation  that  takes  place  in  heated 
fluids,  must  have  been  comparatively  homo- 
geneous in  temperature  ;  and  it  must  have 
been  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  consisting 


Loo^    ^54    7?i    7 


<p^^ 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AXD   CAUSE. 


286 


partly  of  the  elements  of  air  and  water,  and 
partly  of  those  various  other  elements  which 
assuine  a  gaseous  form  at  high  temperatures. 
That  slow  cooling  by  radiation  which  is  still 
going  on  at  an  inappreciable  rate,  and  which, 
though  originally  far  more  rapid  than  now, 
iircessariiy  required  an  immense  time  to  pro- 
duce any  decided  change,  must  ultimately 
liave  resulted  in  the  soliditication  of  the  por- 
tion most  able  to  part  with  its  heat — namel}', 
the  surface.  In  the  thin  crust  thus  formed 
we  have  the  first  marked  differentiation.  A 
still  further  cooling,  a  consequent  thickening 
of  this  crust,  and  an  accompanying  deposi- 
tion of  all  solidifiable  elements  contained  in 
the  atmosphere,  must  finally  have  been  fol- 
lowed by  the  condensation  of  the  water  pre- 
viously existing  as  vapor.  A  second  marked 
differentiation  must  thus  have  arisen  :  and  as 
the  condensation  must  have  taken  place  on 
the  coolest  parts  of  the  surface — namely, 
about  the  poles — there  mu.st  thus  have  re- 
sulted the  first  geographical  distinction  of 
parts.  To  these  illustrations  of  growing 
heterogeneity,  which,  though  deduccii  from 
the  known  laws  of  matter,  may  be  regarded 
as  more  or  less  hypothetical,  geology  ailds  an 
extensive  series  that  have  been  inductively 
established.  Its  investigations  show  that  the 
earth  has  been  contiuual'y  becoming  more 
heterogeneous  iu  virtue  of  the  miilliplicatiou 
of  the  strata  which  form  its  crust  ;  further, 
that  it  has  been  becoming  more  heterogene- 
ous in  respect  of  the  composition  of  these 
strata,  the  latter  of  whicli,  being  made  from 
the  detritus  of  the  older  ones,  are  many  of 
them  rendered  highly  complex  iiy  the  mix- 
ture of  materials  they  contain  ;  and  that  this 
heterogeneity  has  been  vastly  increased  bj' 
the  action  of  the  eartii's  still  molten  nucleus 
upon  its  envelope,  whence  have  resulted  not 
only  a  great  variety  of  igneous  rocks,  but 
the  tilting  up  of  sedimentary  strata  at  all 
angles,  the  formation  of  faults  and  metallic 
veins,  the  production  of  endless  dislocations 
and  irregularities.  Yet  again,  geologists 
teach  us  that  the  earth's  surface  has  been 
growing  more  varied  in  elevation — that  the 
most  ancient  mountain  systems  are  the  small 
est,  and  the  Andes  and  Himalayas  the  most 
modern  ;  while  in  all  probability  there  have 
been  corresponding  changes  in  the  bed  of  the 
ocean.  As  a  consequence  of  these  ceaseless 
differentiations,  we  now  find  that  no  consid- 
erable portion  of  the  earth's  exposed  surface 
is  like  any  other  portion,  either  iu  contour, 
in  geologic  structure,  or  in  chemical  competi- 
tion ;  and  that  in  most  parts  it  changes  from 
mile  to  mile  in  all  these  characteristics. 

Moreover,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
there  has  been  simultaneously  going  on  a 
gradual  differentiation  of  climates.  As  fast 
as  the  earth  cooled  and  its  crust  solidified, 
there  arose  appreciable  differences  in  tem- 
perature between  those  parts  of  its  surface 
most  exposed  to  the  sun  and  those  less  ex- 
posed. Gradually,  as  the  cooling  progressed, 
these  differences  became  more  pronounced  ; 
until  there  finally  resulted  those  marked  con- 
trasts  between  regions  of  perpetual 


ST'Sl'SQ 


snow,  regions  where  winter  and  summer 
alternately  reign  for  periods  varying  accoid- 
ing  to  the  latitude,  and  regions  where  sum- 
mer follows  summer  with  scarcely  an  appre- 
ciable variation.  At  the  same  time  the  suc- 
cessive elevations  and  subsidences  of  differ- 
ent portions  of  the  earth's  crust,  tending  as 
they  have  done  to  the  present  irregular  dis- 
tribution of  land  and  sea,  have  entailed  vari- 
ous modifications  of  climate  beyond  those 
dependent  on  latitude  ;  while  a  yet  further 
series  of  such  modifications  have  been  pro- 
duced by  increasing  differences  of  elevation 
in  the  land,  which  have  in  sundry  places 
brought  arctic,  temperate,  and  tropical  cli- 
mates to  within  a  few  miles  of  each  other. 
And  the  general  result  of  these  changes  is, 
that  not  only  has  every  extensive  region  its 
own  meteorologic  conditions,  but  that  every 
locality  in  each  region  differs  more  or  less 
from  others  in  those  conditions,  as  in  its 
structure,  its  contour,  its  soil.  Thus,  be- 
tween our  existing  earth,  the  phenomena  of 
whose  varied  crust  neither  geographers,  geol- 
ogists, mineralogists,  nor  meteorologists  have 
3'et  enumerated,  and  the  molten  globe  out  of 
which  it  was  evolved,  the  contrast  in  hetero- 
geneity is  sufficiently  striking. 

When  from  the  earth  it.^elf  we  turn  to  the 
plrtnts  and  animals  that  have  lived,  or  still 
live,  upon  its  surface,  we  find  ourselves  in 
some  difficulty  from  lack  of  facts.  That 
every  existing  org.-.nism  has  been  developed 
out  of  the  simph-  into  the  complex,  is  indeed 
the  first  established  truth  of  all  ;  and  that 
every  organism  that  has  existed  wassiniilarly 
developed  is  an  inference  which  no  physiol- 
ogist will  hesitate  to  draw.  But  when  we 
piuss  from  individual  forms  of  life  to  life  iu 
general,  and  inquire  whether  the  same  law 
is  seen  in  the  ensemble  of  its  manifestations — 
whether  modern  plants  and  animals  are  of 
more  heterogeneous  structure  than  ancient 
ones,  and  whether  the  earth's  present  P"'lora 
and  Fauna  are  more  heterogeneous  than  the 
Flora  and  Fauna  of  the  past — we  find  the 
evidence  so  fragmentary  that  every  conclu- 
sion is  open  to  dispute.  Two  thirds  of  the 
earth  s  surface  being  covered  by  water  ;  a 
great  part  of  the  exposed  land  being  inacces- 
sible to,  or  untravolled  by,  the  geologist  ;  the 
greater  part  of  the  remainder  having  been 
scarcely  more  than  glanced  at  ;  and  even  the 
most  familiar  portions,  as  England,  having 
been  so  imperfectly  explored  that  a  new 
series  of  strata  has  been  added  within  these 
four  years — it  is  manifestly  impossible  for  u.s 
to  say  with  any  certainly  what  creatures 
have,  and  what  have  not,  existed  at  any 
particular  period.  Considering  the  perishable 
nature  of  many  of  the  lower  organic  forms, 
the  metamorphosis  of  many  sedimentary 
strata,  and  the  gaps  that  occur  among  the 
rest,  we  shall  see  further  reason  for  distrust- 
ing our  deductions.  On  the  one  hand,  the 
repeated  discovery  of  vertebrate  remains  in 
strata  previously  supposed  to  contain  none 
— of  reptiles  where  only  fish  were  thought  to 
exist — of  mammals  where  it  was  believed 
ere  no  creatures  higher  than  reptiles 


236 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE. 


^renders  it  daily  more  mnuifpst  liow  small 
is  the  value  of  neirative  evidence. 

On  tlie  otiier  liand,  tlie  wortliiessness  of 
the  assumption  that  we  liave  discovered  the 
earliest,  or  anything  Hive  the  eailie.st,  organic 
remains,  is  becoming  etjually  clear.  That 
the  oldest  known  .sedimentary  roclcs  have 
been  greatly  changed  by  igneous  action,  and 
that  still  older  ones  have  been  totally  trans- 
formed by  it,  is  becoming  undeniable.  And 
the  fact  that  sedimentary  strata  earlier  than 
any  we  know  have  been  melted  up,  being 
admitted,  it  must  also  be  admitted  that  we 
cannot  say  how  far  back  in  time  this  destruc- 
tion of  sedimentary  strata  has  been  going 
on.  Thus  it  is  manifest  that  the  title.  Pa- 
IcBozoic,  as  applied  to  the  earliest  known  fos- 
siliferous  strata,  involves  a  petitio principii  ; 
and  that,  for  aught  we  know  to  the  con 
trary,  only  the  last  few  chapters  of  the 
earth's  biological  history  may  have  come 
down  to  us.  On  neither  side,  therefore,  is 
the  evidence  conclusive.  Nevertheless  we 
cannot  but  think  that,  scanty  as  they  are, 
the  facts,  taken  altogether,  tend  to  show 
both  that  the  more  heterogeneous  organisms 
have  been  evolved  in  the  later  geologic 
periods,  and  that  life  in  general  has  been 
more  heterogeneously  manifested  as  time 
had  advanced.  Let  us  cite,  in  illustration,  the 
one  case  of  the  vertebrata.  The  earliest  known 
vertebrate  remains  are  those  of  tislies  ;  and 
fishes  are  the  most  homogeneous  of  the  ver- 
tebrata. Later  and  more  heterogeneous  are 
reptihs.  Later  still,  and  more  heterogeneous 
still,  are  mammals  and  birds.  If  it  be  said, 
as  it  may  fairly  be  said,  that  the  Palajozoic 
deposits,  not  being  estuary  deposits,  are  not 
likelv'  to  contain  the  remains  of  terrestrial 
vertebrata,  which  may  nevertheless  have  ex- 
isted at  that  era,  we  reply  that  we  are  merely 
pointiugto  the  leading  facts,  mch  as  ihey  are. 

But  to  avoid  auy  such  criticism,  let  us  take 
the  mammalian  subdivision  only.  The  earli- 
est known  remains  of  mammals  are  those  of 
small  marsupials,  which  are  tlie  lowest  of  the 
mammalian  type  ;  while,  conversely,  the 
highest  of  the  mammalian  type — man — is  the 
most  recent.  The  evidence  that  the  verte- 
brate fauna,  as  a  whole,  has  become  more 
heterogeneous,  is  considerably  stronger.  To 
the  argument  that  the  vertebrate  fauna  of  the 
Palueozoic  period,  consisting,  so  far  as  we 
know,  enlireh'  of  fishes,  was  less  heterogene- 
ous than  the  modern  vertebrate  fauna,  which 
includes  reptiles,  birds,  and  mammals,  of 
multitudinous  genera,  it  may  be  replied,  as 
before,  that  estuary  deposits  of  the  Palasozoic 
period,  could  we  find  them,  might  contain 
other  orders  of  vertebrata.  But  no  such 
reply  can  be  made  to  the  argument  that 
whereas  the  marine  vertebrata  of  the  Pala?o- 
zoic  period  consisted  entirely  of  cartilaginous 
fishes,  the  marine  vertebrata  of  later  periods 
include  numerous  genera  of  osseous  fishes  ; 
and  that,  therefore,  the  later  marine  verte- 
brate faunas  are  more  heterogeneous  than 
the  oldest  known  one.  Nor,  again,  can  any 
such  reply  be  made  to  the  fact  that  there  are 
far  more  numerous  orders  and  genera  of  mam- 


malian remains  in  the  tertiary  format  ions 
than  in  the  secondary  formations.  Did  wo 
wish  me  ely  to  make  out  the  best  ca.se,  wu 
might  dwell  upon  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Carpen- 
ter, who  says  that  "  the  general  facts  of  Pa- 
IfBontology  appear  to  sanction  the  belief  that 
tlie  same  plan  may  be  traced  out  in  what  nuiy 
be  called  thegeiieral  life  of  the  globe,  as  in  the 
individual  life  of  every  one  of  the  forms  of 
organized  beings  which  now  people  it."  Or 
we  might  quote,  as  decisive,  the  judgment  of 
Professor  Owen,  who  holds  that  the  earlier 
examples  of  each  gioup  of  creatures  sever- 
ally departed  le.ss  widely  from  archetypal 
generality  than  the  later  ones — were  severally 
less  unlike  the  fundamental  form  common  to 
the  group  as  a  whole  ;  that  is  to  .say — consti- 
tuted a  less  heterogeneous  group  of  creat- 
ures ;  and  who  further  upholds  the  doctrine 
of  a  biological  progression.  But  in  defer- 
ence to  an  authority  for  whom  we  have  the 
highest  respect,  wlio  considers  that  the  evi- 
dence at  present  obtained  does  not  justify  a 
verdict  either  way,  we  are  content  to  leave 
the  question  open. 

Whether  an  advance  from  the  homogene- 
ous to  the  heterogeneous  is  or  isnotdisplaywl 
in  the  biological  history  of  the  globe,  it  is 
clearly  enough  displayed  in  the  progress  of 
the  latest  and  most  heterogeneous  creature — 
man.  It  is  alike  true  that,  during  the  period 
in  which  the  earth  lias  been  peopled,  the 
human  organism  has  grown  more  heterogene- 
ous among  the  civilized  divisions  of  the 
species  ;  and  that  the  species,  as  a  whole, 
has  been  growing  more  heterogeneous  in 
virtue  of  the  multiplication  of  races  and  the 
differentiation  of  tliese  races  from  each  other. 

In  proof  of  the  first  of  these  positions  we  may 
cite  the  fact  that,  in  the  relative  developmeni 
of  the  limbs,  the  civilized  man  departs  more 
widely  from  the  general  type  of  the  placental 
mammalia  than  do  the  lower  human  races. 
While  often  possessing  well-developed  body 
and  arms,  the  Papuan  has  extremely  small 
legs  :  thus  reminding  us  of  the  quadrumana, 
in  which  there  is  no  great  contrast  in  size 
between  the  hind  and  fore  limbs.  But  in 
the  European,  the  greater  length  and  ma'^s- 
iveness  of  the  legs  has  become  very  marked 
— the  fore  and  hind  limbs  lire  relatively 
more  heterogeneous.  Again,  the  greater  ratio 
which  the  cranial  bones  l.ear  to  the  facial 
bones  illustrates  the  same  truth.  Among  the 
vertebrata  in  general,  progress  is  marked  by 
an  increasing  heterogeneity  in  the  vertebral 
column,  and  more  especially  in  the  verte- 
brae constituting  the  skull  :  the  higher 
forms  being  distinguished  by  the  relatively 
larger  size  of  the  bones  which  cover  the 
brain,  and  the  relatively  smaller  size  of  those 
which  form  the  jaw,  etc.  Now,  this  char- 
acteristic, which  is  stronger  in  man  than  in 
any  other  creature,  is  stronger  in  the  Euro- 
pean than  in  the  savage.  Moreover,  judging 
from  the  greater  extent  and  variety  of  faculty 
he  exhibits,  we  may  infer  that  the  civilized 
man  has  also  a  more  complex  or  heterogene- 
ous nervous    system  than  the    uacivilized 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


237 


man  :  and  indeed  the  fact  is  in  part  visible 
in  the  increased  ratio  which  his  cerebrum 
bears  to  the  subjacent  ganglia. 

If  further  elucidation  be  needed,  we  may 
find  it  in  every  nursery.  The  infant  Euro- 
pean has  sundry  maikcd  poiuts  of  resem- 
blance to  the  lower  human  races  ;  as  in  tlie 
flatness  of  the  alaj  of  the  nose,  the  depression 
of  its  bridge,  the  divergence  and  forward 
opening  of  the  nostrils,  the  form  of  llie  lips, 
the  absence  of  a  frontal  siuus,  the  width  \ni- 
tween  the  eyes,  the  smallness  of  the  legs. 
Now,  as  the  developmental  process  by  which 
these  traits  are  turned  into  those  of  the  adult 
European,  is  a  coulinualiou  of  that  change 
from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous 
displayed  during  the  previijiis  evolution  of 
the  embryo,   which  every  physiologist  will 

tidmit  ;  it  follows  tiiat  the  parallel  develop- 
uental  process  by  which  the  like  tniits  of  the 
liirbarous  races  have  been  turned  into  those 
of  the  civilized  races,  has  also  been  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  chiinge  from  the  himogeue- 
ous  to  the  heterogeneous.  The  truth  of  the 
pecond  position — that  nuitikiud,  as  a  whole, 
have  bttcome  more  heterogeneous — is  sool)vi- 
ous  a-s  scarcely  to  need  illustration.  Every 
work  on  Etiinology,  by  its  divisions  and  sub- 
divisions of  races,  bears  testimony  to  it. 
Even  were  we  to  admit  the  hypothesis  that 
mankind  originated  from  several  sejiamte 
stocks,  it  W(.uld  still  remain  true,  that  as, 
from  each  of  these  slocks,  there  have  sprung 
many  now  widely  diHerent  tribes,  which  are 
proved  by  philological  i-vidtnce  to  have  had 
a  comm()U  origin,  the  race  as  h  whole  is  far 
less  homogeneous  than  it  once  was.  Add  to 
which,  that  we  have  in  the  Anglo-Ameri- 
cans an  example  of  a  new  variety  arising 
within  these  few  generations;  and  that,  if 
we  may  trust  to  the  description  of  observers, 
we  are  likeiy  soon  to  have  another  such  ex- 
ample in  Australia. 

On  passing  from  humanity  under  its  indi- 
vidual form,  to  huniiuiity  as  socially  em- 
bodied, we  find  tlie  general  law  still  nii>re 
variously  exemplified.  The  change  from  the 
homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous  is  dis- 
played equally  iu  the  progress  of  civilization 
as  a  whole,  and  in  the  progress  of  every  tribe 
or  nation  ;  and  is  still  going  on  with  increas- 
ing rapidity.  As  we  see  in  existing  barbarous 
tril)es,  society  in  its  first  and  lowest  form  is 
a  homogeneous  aggre-gatinn  of  individuals 
having  like  powers  and  like  functions  :  the 
only  marked  difference  of  function  being 
that  which  accompanies  difference  of  sex. 
Every  man  is  warrior,  hunter,  fisherman, 
tool-maker,  builder  ;  every  woman  performs 
the  same  drudgeries  ;  every  family  is  self- 
sufficing,  and  save  for  purposes  of  aggression 
und  defence,  might  as  well  live  apart  from 
Ibc  rest.  Veiy  early,  however,  iu  the  pro- 
cess of  social  evolution,  we  find  an  incipient 
differentiation  between  the  governing  and 
the  governed.  Some  kind  of  chieftainship 
seems  coeval  with  the  first  advance  from  the 
state  of  separate  wandering  families  to  that 
of  a  nomadic  tribe*     The  authority  of  the 


strongest  makes  itself  felt  among  a  body  bi 
savages  as  in  a  herd  of  animals  or  a  posse  of 
schoolboys.  At  first,  however,  it  is  indefi- 
nite.uncertain  ;  is  shared  by  others  of  scarcely 
inferior  power  ;  and  is  unaccompanied  by 
any  difference  in  occupation  or  style  of  liv- 
ing :  the  first  ruler  kills  his  own  game,  makes 
his  own  weapons,  builds  his  own  hut.  and 
economically  considered,  does  not  differ  from 
others  of  his  tribe.  Gradually,  as  the  tribe 
progresses,  the  contrast  between  the  govern- 
ing and  the  governed  grows  more  decided. 
Supreme  power  liecomes  hereditary  in  one 
family  ;  the  head  of  that  family,  ceasing  to 
provide  for  his  own  wants,  is  served  by 
others  ;  and  he  begins  to  assume  the  sole 
oHice  of  ruling. 

At  the  same  time  there  has  been  arising  H 
co-ordinate  species  of  government — that  of 
religion.  As  all  ancient  records  and  tradi- 
tions prove,  the  earliest  rulers  are  regarded 
as  divine  personages.  The  maxims  and 
commands  they  uttered  during  their  lives  are 
held  sacred  after  their  deaths,  and  are  en- 
forced by  their  divinely-descended  succes- 
sors ;  who  in  their  turns  are  promoted  to 
the  pantlienn  of  the  race,  there  to  be  wor- 
shipped and  propitiated  along  with  their  pred- 
ecessors :  the  mo>-t  ancient  of  whom  is  the 
supreme  god,  and  the  rest  subordinate  gods. 
For  a  long  time  these  connate  forms  of 
government— civil  and  religious — continue 
closely  as.socialed.  For  many  generations 
the  king  continues  to  bethe  chief  priest,  and 
the  priesthood  to  be  members  of  the  royal 
race.  For  many  ages  religious  law  continues 
to  contain  more  or  less  of  civil  regulation, 
and  civil  law  topos.sess  more  or  k'ss  of  relig- 
ious sanction  ;  and  even  among  the  most  ad. 
vanced  nations  these  two  controlling  agen- 
cies are  by  no  means  completely  differen- 
tiated from  each  other. 

Having  a  common  root  with  these,  and 
gradually  diverging  from  them,  we  find  yet 
another  controlling  agency — that  of  manners 
or  ceremonial  usages.  AH  titles  of  honor 
are  originally  the  names  of  the  god-king  ; 
afterward  of  God  and  the  king  ;  still  later  of 
persons  of  high  rank  ;  and  finally  come, 
some  of  them,  to  be  used  between  man  and 
man.  All  forms  of  complimentary  ad- 
dress were  at  first  the  expressions  of  submis- 
sion from  prisoners  to  their  conqueror,  or 
from  subjects  to  their  ruler,  either  human 
or  divine — expressions  that  were  afterward 
used  to  propitiate  subcniiuate  authorities, 
and  slowly  descended  into  ordinary  inter- 
course. All  modes  of  salutation  were  once 
<ib(  isaaces  made  before  the  monarch  and 
u>-i  d  in  worship  of  him  after  his  death.  Pres- 
t  miy  others  of  the  god-descended  race  were 
similaily  saluted  ;  and  by  degrees  some  of  the 
salutations  have  become  the  due  of  all. 
Thus,  no  sooner  does  the  originally  homo- 
geneous social  massdifferentiateintothegov- 
erned  and  the  governing  parts,  than  this  last 
exhibits  an  incipient  differentiation  into  re- 
ligious anfl  secular — Church  and  State  ; 
wliile  at  the  same  time  there  begins  to  be 
differentiated  from  both,  that   Icps   definite 


283 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE. 


species  of  government  which  rules  our  daily 
intercourse — a  species  of  goverrimeiil  vviiicli, 
as  we  may  see  in  heralds'  colieircs,  in  t)ool<s 
of  the  peerai^e,  ia  masters  of  ceremonies,  is 
nut  without  a  certain  embodiment  of  Us  own. 
Each  of  these  is  itself  subject  to  successive 
differentiations.  In  the  course  of  ages  there 
arises,  as  among  ourselves,  a  higlily  com- 
plex political  organization  of  monarcli,  min- 
isters, lords  and  commons,  with  their  subor- 
dinate administrative  departments,  courts  of 
justice,  revenue  offices,  etc.,  supplemented 
in  the  provinces  by  municipal  governments, 
county  governments,  parish  or  union  govern- 
ments— all  of  them  moie  or  less  elaborated. 
By  its  side  there  grows  uj)  a  highly  complex 
religious  organization,  with  its  various  giades 
of  oificials,  from  archbishops  down  to  sex- 
tons, its  colleges,  convocations,  ecclesiastical 
courts,  etc.  ;  to  all  which  must  be  added  the 
ever-multiplying  independent  sects,  each 
with  its  general  and  local  authorities.  And 
at  the  same  time  there  is  developed  a  highly 
complex  aggregation  of  customs,  manners, 
and  temporary  fashions,  enforced  by  society 
at  large,  and  serving  to  control  those  minor 
transactions  between  man  and  man  which  are 
not  regulated  by  civil  and  religious  law. 
Moreover  it  is  to  be  observed  that  this  ever- 
increasing  heterogeneity  in  the  governmental 
appliances  of  each  nation  has  been  accom- 
panied by  an  increasing  heterogeneity  in  the 
governmental  appliances  of  different  nations  ; 
all  of  which  are  more  or  less  unlike  in  their 
political  systems  and  legislation,  in  their 
creeds  and  religious  institutions,  in  their  cus- 
toms and  ceremoniul  usages. 

Simultaneously  there  has  been  going  on  a 
second  differentiation  of  a  more  familiar 
kind  ;  that,  namely,  by  which  the  mass  of 
the  community  has  been  segregated  into  dis- 
tinct classes  and  orders  of  workers.  While 
the  goveraiug  part  has  undergone  the  com- 
plex developmeat  above  detailed,  the  gov- 
erned part  has  undergone  an  equally  com- 
plex development,  which  has  resulted  m  that 
minute  division  of  labor  characterizing  ad- 
vanced nations.  It  is  needless  to  trace  out 
this  progress  from  its  first  Stages,  up  through 
the  caste  divisions  of  the  East  and  the  incor- 
porated guilds  of  Europe,  to  the  elaborate 
producing  and  distributing  organization  ex- 
isting among  ourselves.  Political  economists 
have  lung  since  descriljed  the  evolution 
which,  beginning  with  a  tribe  whose  mem- 
bers severally  perform  the  same  actions  each 
for  himself,  ends  with  a  civilized  community 
whose  members  severally  perform  different 
actions  for  each  other ;  and  they  have 
further  pointed  out  the  changes  through 
which  the  solitary  producer  of  any  one  com- 
modity is  transformed  into  a  combination  of 
producers  who,  united  under  a  master,  take 
separate  parts  in  the  manufacture  of  such 
commodity.  But  there  are  yet  other  and 
higher  phases  of  this  advance  from  the  ho- 
mogeneous tu  the  heteioi^entousinthe  indus- 
trial organization  of  s^jcicty. 

Long  after  considerable  progress  has  been 
made  in  the  division  oi  labor  among  different 


classes  of  workers,  there  is  still  little  or  no 
division  of  labor  among  the  widely  separated 
parts  of  the  communily  ;  the  nation  continues 
comparatively  homogeneous  in  the  resjwct 
that  in  each  district  the  same  occupations 
are  pursued.  But  when  roads  and  other 
means  of  transit  becouie  numerous  and  good, 
the  different  districts  begiu  to  assume  differ- 
ent functitms,  and  to  become  mutually  de- 
pendent. The  calico  manufacture  locates 
itself  in  this  county,  the  woollen-cloth  man- 
ufacture  in  that  ;  silks  are  produced  here, 
lace  there  ;  stockings  in  one  place,  shoes  in 
another  ;  pottery,  hardware,  cutlery,  come 
to  have  their  special  towns  ;  and  ultimately 
every  locality  becomes  more  or  less  distin- 
guished from  the  rest  by  the  leading  occupa- 
tion carried  on  in  it.  Nay,  more  :  this  subdi- 
vision of  functions  shows  itself  not  only 
among  the  different  parts  of  the  same  nation, 
but  among  different  nations.  That  exchange 
of  commodities  which  free-trade  promises  so 
greatly  to  increase  will  ultimately  have  the 
effect  of  specializing,  in  a  greater  or  less  de- 
gree, the  industry  of  each  people.  So  that 
beginniug  with  a  barbarous  tribe,  almost  if 
not  quite  homogeneous  in  the  fuuctions  of 
its  members,  the  progress  has  been,  and  still 
is,  toward  an  economic  aggregation  of  the 
whole  human  race  ;  growing  ever  more 
heterogeneous  in  respect  of  the  separate 
functions  assumed  by  separate  nations,  the 
separate  functions  assumed  by  the  local 
sections  of  each  nation,  the  separate  func- 
tions assumed  by  the  many  kinds  of  makers 
and  traders  in  each  town,  and  the  separate 
functions  assumed  by  the  workers  united  in 
producing  each  commodity. 

Not  only  is  the  law  thus  clearly  exempli- 
fied in  the  evolution  of  the  social  organism, 
but  it  is  exemplified  with  equal  clearuess  in 
the  evolution  of  all  products  of  human 
thought  and  action,  whether  concrete  or  ab- 
stract, real  or  ideal.  Let  us  take  Language 
as  our  first  illustration. 

The  lowest  form  of  language  is  the  ex- 
clamation, by  which  an  entiieidea  is  vaguely 
conveyed  through  a  single  sound  ;  as  among 
the  lower  animals.  That  human  language 
ever  consisted  solely  of  exclamations,  and  so 
was  strictly  homogeneous  in  respect  of  its 
parts  of  speech,  we  have  no  evidence.  But 
that  language  can  be  traced  down  to  a  form 
in  which  nouns  and  verbs  are  its  only  ele- 
ments, is  an  established  fact.  In  the  gradual 
multiplication  of  parts  of  speech  out  of  these 
primary  ones— in  the  diffeienliatioa  of  verbs 
into  active  and  passive,  of  nouns  into  ab- 
stract and  concrete — in  the  rise  of  distinc- 
tions of  mood,  tense,  person,  of  number  and 
case — in  the  formation  of  auxiliary  verbs,  of 
adjectives,  adverbs,  pronouns,  prepositions, 
articles— in  the  divergence  of  those  orders, 
genera,  species,  and  varieties  of  parts  of 
speech  by  which  civilized  races  express  mi- 
nute modifications  of  meaning — we  see  a 
change  from  the  homogeneous  to  the  hetero- 
geneous. And  it  may  be  remarked,  in  pass- 
ing, that  it  is  more  especially  in  virtue  of 
having  carried  this  subdivision  of  function 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


239 


to  a  greater  extent  and  completeness,  that  the 
Enj^lish  hinguage  is  superior  to  all  others. 

Another  aspect  under  which  we  may  trace 
the  development  of  language  is  the  diflferen- 
tiatiou  of  words  of  allied  meanings.  Phi- 
lology early  disclosed  the  truth  that  in  all 
languages  words  may  be  grouped  into  fami- 
lies having  a  common  ancestry.  An  aborig- 
inal name  a[jplied  indiscriminately  to  each 
of  au  extensive  and  ill-defined  class  of  things 
or  actions,  presently  luulergoes  modifications 
by  which  the  chief  divisions  of  the  class  are 
expressed.  These  several  names  springing 
from  the  primitive  root,  themselves  become 
the  parents  of  other  names  stdl  further  mod- 
ified. And  by  the  aid  of  those  systematic 
modes  which  presently  arise,  of  making  de- 
rivations and  formii-.g  compound  terms  ex- 
pressing still  smaller  distinctions,  there  is 
linally  developed  a  tribe  of  words  so  hetero- 
geneous in  sound  and  meaning  that  to  the 
uninitiated  it  seems  incredible  that  they 
should  have  had  a  common  origin.  Mean- 
wiiile  from  other  roots  there  are  being  evolved 
other  such  tribes,  until  there  results  a  lan- 
guage of  some  sixty  thousand  or  more  luilike 
words,  signifying  as  many  unlike  objects, 
qualities,  acts. 

Yet  ancther  way  in  which  language  in 
general  advances  from  the  homogcueous  to 
the  heterogeneous,  is  in  the  multiplication  of 
languages.  Wiiethcr,  as  Max  Miiller  and 
Bunsen  think,  all  languages  have  grown  from 
one  stock,  or  whether,  as  some  philolgists 
s:iy,  they  have  grown  from  two  or  more 
stocks,  it  is  clear  that  since  large  families  of 
languages,  as  the  Indo-European,  are  of  one 
parentage,  they  have  become  distinct  through 
a  process  of  continuous  divergence.  The 
same  diffusion  over  the  earth's  surface  which 
has  led  to  the  differentiation  of  tlie  race,  has 
simultaneously  led  to  a  differentiation  of 
their  speech  ;  a  truth  which  we  see  further  il- 
lustrated in  each  nation  by  the  peculiarities  of 
<lialect  found  in  several  districts.  Thus  the 
progress  of  language  conforms  to  the  general 
law,  alike  in  the  evolution  of  languages,  in 
the  evolution  of  families  of  words,  and  in  the 
•evolution  of  parts  of  speech. 

On  passing  from  spoken  to  written  lan- 
guage, we  come  upon  several  cla-sses  of  facts, 
all  havins:  similar  implications.  Written 
language  is  connate  with  painting  and  sculp- 
ture ;  and  at  fir.'^t  all  three  are  appendages  of 
architecture,  and  have  a  direct  connection 
with  the  primary  form  of  all  government — 
the  theocratic.  Merely  noting  by  the  way 
the  fact  that  sundry  wild  races,  as  for  ex- 
ample the  Australians  and  the  tribes  of  South 
Africa,  are  given  to  depicting  perscnages  and 
events  upon  the  walls  of  caves,  which  are 
probably  regarded  as  sacred  places,  let  us 
pass  to  the  case  of  the  Egyptians.  Among 
them,  as  also  amonff  the  As.syrians,  we  find 
mural  ptiiutings  used  to  decorate  the  Itmple 
of  the  god  and  the  palace  of  the  king  (which 
were,  indeed,  originally  identical) ;  and  as 
such  they  were  governmental  af  i  liances  in 
the  same  sense  that  ?t;ite-pageants  and  relig- 
ious feasts  were.     Fiuther.  they  weie  gov- 


ernmental appliances  in  virtue  of  represent- 
ing the  worship  of  the  god,  the  triumphs  of 
the  god-king,  the  submission  of  his  subjects, 
and  the  punishment  of  the  rebellious.  And 
yet  again  they  were  goveinmental,  as  being 
the  'pro^iucts  of  an  art  leverenced  by  the 
people  as  a  sacred  mystery.  From  the  habit- 
ual use  of  this  pictorial  rtpresentation  there 
naturally  grew  up  the  but  slightly-modified 
practice  of  picture-wiiting — a  practice  which 
was  found  still  extant  among  the  Mexicans 
at  the  time  they  were  discovered.  By  abbre- 
viations analogous  to  those  still  ^'^oiiiP^  on  in 
our  own  written  and  t-poken  language,  the 
most  familiar  of  these  pictured  figures  were 
successively  simplified  ;  and  ultimately  there 
grew  up  a  system  of  symbcla,  most  of  which 
had  but  a  distant  lesemblance  to  the  things 
for  which  tliey  stood.  The  inference  that 
the  hieroglyphics  of  the  Egyptians  were  thus 
produced  is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  the 
picture-writing  of  the  Mexicans  was  found  to 
have  given  birth  to  a  like  family  of  ideo- 
graphic forms  ;  and  among  thtm,  as  among 
the  Eiiyptians,  these  had  been  partially  dif- 
ferentiated into  the  kiniohfjiad  or  imitative, 
and  the  tropical,  or  symbc  lie  :  which  were, 
however,  used  together  in  the  same  record. 
In  Egypt,  written  language  underwent  a 
furthe^  differentiation  :  whence  resulted  the 
hieratic  and  the  epiniolof/rajthic  or  enchorial : 
both  of  which  are  derived  from  tlie  original 
hieroglyphic.  At  the  same  time  we  find  that 
for  the  expression  of  proper  names  which 
could  not  be  otherwise  conveyed,  phonetic 
symbols  were  employed  ;  and  though  it  is 
alleged  that  the  Egyptians  never  actually 
achieved  complete  alphabetic  writing,  yet  it 
can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  these  phonetic 
symbols  occa-sioually  used  in  aid  of  their  ideo- 
graphic ones,  were  the  geims  out  of  which 
alphabetic  writing  grew.  Once  having  be- 
come 8e[>arate  from  hieroglyphics,  alphabetic 
writing  itself  underwent  numerous  differen- 
tiations —  nmltiplied  alphabets  were  pro- 
duced ;  between  most  of  which,  however, 
more  or  less  connection  can  still  be  traced. 
And  in  each  civilized  nation  there  has  now 
grownup,  for  the  representation  of  one  set 
of  sounds,  several  sets  of  written  signs  used 
for  distinct  purposes.  Finally,  through  a  yet 
more  important  differentiation  came  print- 
ing ;  which,  uniform  in  kind  as  it  was  at 
first,  has  since  become  multiform. 

While  written  language  was  passing 
through  its  earlier  stages  of  development, 
the  mural  decoration  which  formed  its  root 
was  being  differentiated  into  painting  and 
sculpture.  The  gods,  kings,  men,  and  ani- 
mals represented  were  originally  marked  by 
indented  outlines  and  colored.  In  most  cases 
these  outlines  were  of  such  depth,  and  the 
oLijcct  they  circumscribed  so  far  rounded  and 
marked  out  in  its  leading  parts,  as  to  form  a 
species  of  work  intermediate  between  in- 
taglio and  bas-relief.  In  other  cases  we 
see  an  advance  upon  this  ;  the  raised  spaces 
between  the  figures  being  chiselled  off,  and 
the  figures  themselves  appropriately  tinted,  a 
painted  bas-relief  was  produced.      The  re- 


HO 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE. 


stored  Assyrian  architecture  at  Sydenham 
exhibits  this  style  of  art  carried  to  greater 
perfection— the  persons  and  thini^s  repre- 
sented, though  still  barbarously  colored,  aro 
carved  out  with  more  truth  and  in  greater 
detail  :  and  in  the  winged  lions  and  bulls 
used  for  the  angles  of  galcways,  we  may  see 
a  considerable  advance  toward  a  completely 
sculptured  figure  ;  which,  nevertheless,  is 
btill  coloreij,  and  still  forms  part  of  the  build- 
ing. But  while  in  Assyria  the  production 
of  a  statue  proper  seems  to  have  been  little, 
if  at  all,  attempted,  we  may  trace  in  Egyp- 
tian art  the  gradual  separation  of  the  sculp- 
tured figure  from  the  wall.  A  walkthrough 
the  collection  iu  the  British  Museimi  will 
clearly  show  this  ;  while  it  will  at  the  same 
time  afford  an  opportunity  of  observing  the 
evident  traces  which  the  independent  statues 
bear  of  their  derivation  from  ba.s-relief  :  see- 
ing that  nearly  all  of  them  not  only  display 
that  union  of  the  limbs  with  the  l)ody  which 
is  the  characteristic  of  bas-relief,  but  have 
the  back  of  the  statue  united  from  head  to 
foot  with  a  block  which  stands  iti  place  cf 
the  original  wall.  Greece  repeated  the  lead- 
ing stages  of  this  progress.  As  in  Egypt 
and  Assyria,  these  twin  arts  were  at  first 
united  with  each  other  and  with  their  parent, 
architecture,  and  were  the  aids  of  religion 
and  government.  On  the  friezes  of  Greek 
temples  we  see  colored  bas-reliefs  represent- 
ing sacrifices,  battles,  processions,  games — 
all  in  some  sort  religious.  <)u  the  pediments 
we  see  painted  sculptures  more  or  less  united 
with  the  tympanum,  and  having  for  subjects 
the  triumphs  of  gods  or  heroes.  Even  when 
we  come  to  statues  that  are  definiti^ly  sep- 
arated from  the  buildings  to  which  they  per- 
tain, we  still  find  them  colored  ;  and  only  in 
the  later  periods  of  Greek  civilization  docs 
the  differentiatum  of  sculpture  from  painting 
appear  to  have  become  complete. 

In  Christian  art  we  may  clearly  trace  a 
parallel  regenesis.  All  early  paintings  and 
sculptures  throughout  Europe  were  religious 
in  subject — represented  Christs,  crucifixions, 
virgins,  holy  families,  apostles,  sainta.  They 
formed  integral  parts  of  church  architecture, 
and  were  among  the  means  of  exciting  wor- 
ship ;  as  in  Roman  Catholic  countries  they 
still  are.  Moreover,  the  early  sculptures  of 
Christ  on  the  cross,  of  virgins,  of  saints, 
were  colored;  and  it  needs" but  to  call  to 
mind  the  painted  madonnas  and  crucifixes 
still  abundant  in  continental  churches  and 
highways,  to  perceive  the  significant  fact 
that  painting  and  sculpture  continue  ia 
closest  connection  with  each  other  where 
thej'  continue  in  closest  connection  with  their 
parent.  Even  when  Christian  sculpture  was 
pretty  clearly  differentiated  from  painting  it 
was  still  religious  and  governmental  in  its 
subjects — was  used  for  tombs  in  churches 
and  statues  of  kings  :  while,  at  the  same  time, 
painting,  where  not  purely  ecclesiastical, 
was  applied  to  the  decoration  of  palaces,  and 
besides  representing  royal  personages,  was 
almost  wholly  devoted  to  sacred  legends. 
Only  in  quite  recent  times  have  painting  and 


sculpture  become  entirely  secular  arts.  Onljr 
within  these  few  centuries  has  )>ainlinK  been 
divided  into  historical,  landscape,  marine, 
architectural,  genre,  animal,  still  life,  etc., 
and  sculpture  grown  heterogeneous  in  re- 
spect ot  the  variety  of  real  and  ideal  subjects 
with  which  it  occupies  itself. 

Strange  as  it  seems,  then,  we  find  it  no  less 
true,  that  all  forms  of  written  language,  of 
painting,  and  of  sculpture,  have  a  common 
root  in  the  politico- religious  decorations  of 
ancient  temples  and  palaces.  Little  re.>*em- 
blance  as  they  now  have,  the  bust  that  stand* 
on  the  console,  the  landscape  that  hangs 
against  the  wall,  and  the  copy  of  the  Titnes 
lying  upon  the  table,  are  remotely  akin  ;  not 
only  in  nature,  but  by  extraction.  The 
brazen  face  of  the  knocker  which  the  post- 
man has  just  lifted,  is  related  not  only  to 
the  woodcuts  of  the  llluxtrattd  London  JVcws 
which  he  is  delivering,  but  to  the  characters 
of  the  billet-doux  which  accompanies  if.  Be- 
iween  the  painted  window,  the  prayer-book 
on  which  its  light  falls,  and  the  adjacent 
m  inumcnt  there  is  consangunity.  The  effi- 
gies on  our  coins,  the  signs  over  shops,  ihe 
figures  that  fill  every  ledger,  the  coats-of- 
anns  outside  the  carriage  panel,  and  the  pla- 
cards inside  the  omnil)us,  are,  in  common 
with  dolls,  blue-books,  paper-hangings,  line- 
ally descended  from  tlie  rude  sculpture-paint- 
ings in  which  the  Egyptians  represented  the 
triumphs  and  worship  of  their  god-kings. 
Perhaps  no  example  can  be  given  which 
more  vividly  illustrates  the  multiplicity  and 
heterogeneity  of  the  products  that  in  course 
of  time  may  arise  b}'  6uc(;essive  differentia- 
lions  from  a  common  stock. 

Before  passing  to  other  classes  of  facts,  it 
should  be  observed  that  the  evolution  of  the 
homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous  is  dis- 
played not  only  in  the  separation  of  paiuting^ 
and  sctilpture  from  architecture  and  from 
each  other,  and  in  the  greater  variety  of  sub- 
jects they  embody,  but  it  is  further  shown  in 
the  structure  of  each  work.  A  modern  pic- 
ture or  statue  is  of  far  more  heterogeneous 
nature  than  an  ancient  one.  An  Egyptian 
sculpture-fresco  represents  all  its  figures  as  on 
one  plane — that  is,  at  the  same  distance  from 
the  ej'e  ;  and  so  is  less  heterogeneous  than  a 
painting  that  represents  them  as  at  various 
distances  from  the  eye.  It  exhibits  all  objecta 
as  exposed  to  the  same  degree  of  light  ;  and  so 
is  less  heterogeneous  than  a  painting  which 
exhibits  different  objects  and  different  parts  of 
each  object  as  in  dificrt'ut  degrees  of  light.  It 
uses  scarcely  any  but  the  primary  colors,  and 
these  in  their  full  intensity  ;  and  so  is  less- 
heterogeneous  than  a  painting  which,  intro- 
ducing the  primary  colors  but  sparingly, 
ernploj's  an  endless  variety  of  intei  mediate 
tints,  each  of  heterogeneous  composition,  and 
differing  from  the  rest  not  only  in  quality 
but  in  intensity.  Moreover,  we  see  in  these 
earliest  works  a  great  uniformity  of  concep- 
tion. The  same  arrangement  of  figures  is 
perpetually  reproduced — the  same  actions, 
attitudes,  faces,  dresses.  In  Egypt  the 
modes  of  rppreser.tation  were  so  fixed  that  it 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


341 


■was  sacrilege  to  introduce  a  novelty  ;  and 
indeed  it  could  liave  been  only  in  conse- 
quence of  a  tixcd  mode  of  representation 
thai  a  syslcm  of  hieroglyphics  became  possi- 
ble. The  Assyrian  l);itj-reliefs  display  paial- 
li'l  chiiracter.s.  Deities,  kings,  attendants, 
winded  figures  and  animals,  are  severally 
depicted  in  like  pnsilions,  hnldmg  like  ini- 
plcuiLUls,  doing  like  things,  and  with  like  ex- 
press-ion or  uun-expres^sijn  of  face.  If  u 
palm-grove  is  introduce;!,  all  the  trees  are  of 
the  same  height,  have  the  same  number  of 
leaves,  and  are  equidistant.  When  water  is 
imitated,  each  wave  is  a  counterpart  of  the 
re.-t  ;  and  the  li.sh,  almost  always  of  one 
kind,  arc  evenly  distributed  over  the  surface. 
The  boards  of  the  kings,  the  gods,  and  the 
■winged  figures,  are  everywhere  similar  :  as 
are  the  manes  of  the  lions,  and  equally  so 
those  of  the  horses.  Hair  is  re[)iesented 
throughout  by  one  form  of  curl.  The  king's 
beard  is  quite  arcliitecturally  built  up  of 
compound  tiers  of  uniform  cui  Is,  alternating 
with  twisted  tiers  i)luci(l  in  a  transverse 
direction,  audarianged  with  perfect  regular- 
ity ;  and  the  terminal  tufts  of  the  bulls'  tails 
are  represented  in  exactly  the  same  nuiuner. 
Without  tracing  out  analogous  facts  in  early 
Christian  art,  in  which,  though  less  striking, 
they  are  still  visible,  the  advance  in  hetero- 
geneity will  be  sufticicutly  manifest  on  re- 
nundieriug  that  in  the  pictures  of  our  own 
day  the  composition  is  endlessly  varied  ;  thu 
attitudes,  faces,  expressions  utdike  ;  the  sub- 
ordinate objects  different  in  size,  form,  posi- 
tion, texture  ;  and  more  or  less  of  coulrust 
even  in  the  smallest  details.  Or,  if  we  com- 
pare an  Egyptian  statue,  seated  bolt  upright 
on  a  block,  with  hands  on  knees,  fingers  out- 
spread and  parallel,  eyes  looking  etraight 
forward,  and  the  two  sides  perfectly  sjTn- 
metrical  in  every  particular,  with  a  statue  of 
the  advanced  Greek  or  the  modern  school, 
which  is  as  symmetrical  in  respect  of  the 
position  of  the  head,  the  body,  the  limbs,  the 
arrangement  of  the  hair,  dress,  appendages, 
and  in  its  relations  to  neishboring  objects, 
we  shall  see  Iho  change  fronj  the  homogene- 
ous to  the  heterogeneous  clearly  manifested. 
In  the  co-ordinate  origin  and  gradual  dif- 
ferentiation of  poetry,  music,  and  dancing, 
we  have  another  series  of  illustrations. 
Rhythm  in  speech,  rhythm  in  sound,  ami 
rhythm  in  motion,  were  in  the  beginning 
parts  of  the  same  thing,  and  have  only  in 
process  of  time  become  separate  things. 
Among  various  existing  barbarous  trilK'S  we 
find  them  still  united.  The  dances  of  sav- 
ages are  accompanied  by  some  kind  of  mo- 
notonous chant,  the  clapping  of  hands,  the 
striking  of  rude  instruments  :  there  ate  meas- 
ured movements,  measured  words,  and  meas- 
ured tones  ;  and  the  whole  ceremony,  usually' 
having  reference  to  war  or  sacrifice,  is  of 
goveiumenlal  character.  In  the  early  rec- 
ords of  the  historic  races  we  similarly  find 
these  three  forms  ot  metrical  action  united  in 
religious  festivals.  In  the  Hebrew  writings 
we  read  that  the  triumphal  ode  composed  by 


Moses  on  the  defeat  of  the  Egyptians  was 
sung  to  an  accompaniment  of  dancing  and 
timbrels.  The  Israelites  danced  and  sung 
"  at  the  inauguration  of  the  golden  calf. 
Artd  an  it  is  generally  agreed  that  this  repre- 
sentation of  the  Deity  was  boriowed  fioni 
the  mysteries  of  Apis,  it  is  probable  that  the 
dancing  was  copied  frornthat  of  the  Egyptian* 
on  those  occasions."  There  was  «n  annual 
dance  in  Shiloh  on  the  sacred  festival  ;  and 
Dosvid  danced  before  the  ark.  Again,  iu 
Greece  the  like  relation  is  everywhere  seen  : 
the  original  type  being  there,  as  probably  ia 
other  cases,  a  simultaneous  chanting  and 
mimetic  representation  of  the  life  and  adven- 
tures of  the  god.  The  Spartan  dances  were 
accompanied  by  hymns  and  songs  ;  and  iu 
general  the  Greeks  had  "  no  festivals  or  rtlig- 
i.)us  a.ssemblies  but  what  were  accompanied 
with  songs  and  dances" — both  of  them 
being  forms  of  wor.ehip  used  before  altars. 
Among  the  Romans,  loo,  there  were  sacred 
dances  :  the  Salian  and  Lupercalian  being 
named  as  of  that  kind.  And  even  in  Chris- 
tian countries,  as  at  Limoges,  in  compara- 
tively recent  times,  the  people  have  danced 
in  the  choir  in  honor  of  a  saint.  The  incipi- 
ent separation  of  these  once  united  arts  from 
each  other  and  from  religion,  was  early  vis- 
ible in  Greece.  Probably  diverging  from 
dances  partly  religious,  parti}'  warlike,  as 
the  Corybantian,  came  the  war  dances 
proper,  of  which  there  were  various  kinds  ; 
and  from  these  resulted  secular  dunces. 
Meanwhile  music  and  poetry,  though  still 
united.  cam(i  to  have  an  existence  separate 
fri  m  dancing.  The  aboriginal  Greek  poems, 
religious  iu  subject,  were  not  recited,  but 
chanted  ;  and  tli(,ugh  at  first  the  chant  of  the 
poet  was  accomi)anied  by  the  dance  of  the 
chorus,  it  ultimately  grew  into  independence. 
Later  still,  when  the  poem  had  been  differ- 
entiated into  epic  and  lyric — when  it  became 
the  custom  to  sing  thu  lyric  and  recite  the 
e|.ic— poetry  proper  was  bom.  As  during 
the  same  period  musical  instmuRnts  were 
being  inultqilied,  we  may  presume  that  music 
came  to  have  an  existence  apart  from  words. 
And  both  of  them  were  beginning  to  a.ssume 
other  forms  besides  the  religious.  Facts 
having  like  implications  might  be  cited  from 
the  histories  of  later  times  and  peoples  ;  as 
the  practices  of  our  own  early  n  instrels,  who 
sang  to  the  harp  heroic  narratives  versified 
by  them>elves  to  music  of  their  own  compo- 
sition ;  thus  uniting  the  now  separate  offices 
of  poet,  compo.ser,  vocalist,  and  instrumen- 
talist. But,  without  further  illustration,  thu 
common  origin  and  gradual  differentiation 
of  dancing,  poetry,  and  music  will  be  suffi- 
ciently manifest. 

The  advance  from  the  homogeneous  to 
the  heterogeneous  is  displayed  not  only  in 
the  separation  of  these  arts  from  each  other 
and  from  religion,  but  also  in  the  multiplied 
differentiations  which  each  of  them  after- 
ward undergoes,  Not  to  dwell  upon  the 
numberless  kinds  of  dancing  that   have,  in 


242 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


course  of  time,  come  into  use  ;  and  not  to 
occupy  space  in  detailing  the  progress  of 
poetry,  as  seen  in  the  development  of  the 
various  forms  of  metre,  of  rhyme,  and  of 
general  orguuizutiou,  let  us  confine  our  at- 
tention to  music  as  a  type  of  the  group.  As 
argued  hy  Dr.  liurney,  and  as  implied  by 
the  customs  of  still  extant  barbarous  races, 
the  first  nuisical  instruments  were,  without 
doubt,  percussive — sticks,  calabashes,  tom- 
toms—and  were  used  simply  to  mark  the 
time  of  the  dance  ;  and  in  this  consluut  rep- 
etition of  the  same  sound  we  see  music  in 
its  most  homogeneous  form. 

Tlie  Egyptians  had  a  lyre  with  three 
strings.  The  eaiiy  lyre  of  the  Greeks  had 
four,  constituting  their  tetrachord.  lu 
course  of  some  centuries  lyres  of  seven  and 
eight  strings  were  employed.  And,  by  the 
expiration  of  a  thousand  years,  they  had  ad- 
vanced to  their  "  great  system"  uf  the  double 
octave.  Through  all  which  changes  there  of 
course  arose  a  greater  heterogeneity  of  mel- 
ody. Simiitaneously  then;  came  into  use  the 
different  modes — Dorian,  Ionian,  Phrygian, 
^olian,  and  Lydian — answering  to  our  keys  ; 
and  of  these  were  there  ultimately  fifteen. 
As  yet,  however,  there  was  but  little  hetero- 
geneity in  the  time  of  their  music. 

Instrumental  music  during  this  period 
being  merely  the  accompaniment  of  vocal 
music,  and  vocal  music  being  completely 
subordinated  to  woids,  the  singer  being  also 
the  poet,  chanting  his  own  compositions  and 
making  the  lengths  of  his  notes  agree  with 
the  feet  of  his  verses,  there  luiavoidably 
arose  a  tiresome  uniformity  of  measure, 
which,  as  Dr.  Jiurue}'  says,  "  no  resources 
of  melotly  could  disguise."  Lacking  the 
complex  rhythm  obtained  by  our  etjual  bars 
and  unequal  notes,  the  only  rhythm  was  that 
produced  by  the  (piautity  of  the  syllables, 
and  was  of  necessity  comparatively  monoto- 
nous. And  further,  it  may  be  observed  that 
the  chant  thus  resulting,  being  like  recita- 
tive, was  much  less  clearly  dififerentiated 
from  ordinary  speech  than  is  our  modern 
song. 

Nevertheless,  m  virtue  of  the  extended 
range  of  notes  in  use,  the  variety  of  modes, 
the  occasional  variations  of  time  consequent 
on  changes  of  metre,  and  the  mulliplicatioa 
of  instruments,  music  had,  toward  the  close 
of  Greek  civilization,  attained  to  consider- 
able heterogeneity — not  indeed  as  compared 
with  our  music,  but  as  compared  with  that 
which  preceded  it.  As  yet,  however,  there 
existed  nothing  but  melody  ;  harmony  was 
unknown.  It  was  not  until  Christian  church- 
music  iiad  reached  some  development  that 
music  in  parts  was  evolved  ;  and  then  it 
came  into  existence  through  a  very  unob- 
trusive differentiation.  Difiicult  as  it  may 
be  to  conceive  d  prioriho'W  the  advance  from 
melody  to  harnn)uy  could  take  place  without 
a  sudden  leap,  it  is  uone  the  less  true  that  it 
did  so.  The  circumstance  which  prepared 
the  way  for  it  was  the  employment  of  two 
choirs  singing  alternately  the  same  air. 
Afterward  it  became  the  practice — very  pos- 


sibly first  suggested  by  a  mistake — for  the 
second  choir  to  commence  before  the  first 
had  ceased  ;  thus  producing  a  fugue. 

With  the  simple  airs  then  in  u.se,  a  par- 
tially harmonious  fugue  might  not  improb- 
ably thus  result  :  and  a  very  partially  har- 
monious fugue  satisfied  the  ears  of  that  age, 
as  we  know  from  still  preserved  examples. 
The  idea  having  once  been  given,  the  com- 
posing of  airs  productive  of  fugal  harmony 
would  naturally  grow  up  ;  as  in  some  way 
it  did  grow  up  out  of  this  alternate  choir- 
singing.  And  from  the  fugue  to  concerted 
music  of  two,  three,  four,  and  more  parts, 
the  transition  was  easy.  Without  pointing 
out  in  detail  the  increasing  complexity  that 
resulted  from  from  introducing  uotes  of  vari- 
ous lengths,  from  the  multiplication  of  keys, 
from  the  use  of  accidentals,  from  varieties  of 
time,  and  so  forth,  it  needs  but  to  contrast 
music  as  it  is  witii  music  as  it  was,  to  see 
how  immense  is  the  increase  of  heterogene- 
ity. We  see  this  if,  looking  at  music  in  its 
eimemble,  we  enumerate  its  many  different 
genera  and  species — if  we  consider  the  divi- 
sions into  vocal,  instrumental,  and  mixed  ; 
and  their  subdivisions  into  music  for  differ- 
ent voices  and  different  instruments— if  we 
observe  the  many  forms  of  sacred  music, 
from  the  simple  hymn,  the  chant,  the  canon, 
motet,  anthem,  etc.  up  to  the  oratorio  ;  and 
the  still  more  numerous  forms  of  secular 
music,  from  the  ballad  up  to  the  serenata, 
from  the  instrumental  solo  up  to  the  sym- 
phony. 

Again,  the  .'lame  truth  is  seen  on  compar- 
ing any  one  sample  of  aboriginal  music  with 
a  sample  of  modern  music — even  an  ordinary 
song  for  the  piano  ;  wliich  we  find  to  be 
relatively  highly  heterogeneous,  not  only  in 
respect  of  the  varieties  in  the  pitch  and  in 
the  length  of  the  notes,  the  number  of  differ- 
ent notes  sounding  at  the  same  instant  in 
company  with  the  voice,  and  the  variations 
of  strength  with  which  they  are  sounded  and 
sung,  but  in  respect  of  the  changes  of  key, 
the  changes  of  time,  the  changes  of  timbre  of 
the  voice,  and  the  many  other  modifications 
of  expression.  While  between  the  old  mo- 
notonous dance-chant  and  a  grand  opera  of 
our  own  day,  with  its  endless  orchestral 
complexities  and  vocal  combinations,  the 
contrast  in  heterogeneity  is  so  extrenle  that 
it  seems  scarcely  credible  that  the  one  should 
have  been  the  ancestor  of  the  other. 

Were  they  needed,  many  further  illustra- 
tions might  be  cited.  Going  back  to  the 
early  time  when  the  deeds  of  the  god-king, 
chanted  and  mimetically  represented  in 
dances  round  his  altar,  were  fuither  narrated 
in  picture-writings  on  the  walls  of  temples 
and  palaces,  and  so  constituted  a  rude  litera- 
ture, we  might  trace  the  development  of  lit- 
erature through  phases  in  which,  as  in  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures,  it  presents  in  one  work 
theology,  cosmogony,  history,  biography, 
civil  law,  ethics,  poetry  ;  through  other 
phases  in  which  as  in  the  Iliad,  the  religious, 
martial,  historical,  the  epic,  dramatic,  and 
lyric  elements   are    similarly  commingled  ; 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


di3 


down  to  its  present  heterogeneous  develop- 
ment, in  which  its  divisions  and  subdivisions 
are  so  numerous  and  varied  as  to  defy  com- 
plete classification.  Or  -we  might  trace  out 
the  evolution  of  science  ;  beginning  with  the 
era  in  which  it  was  not  yet  differentiated 
from  art,  and  was,  in  union  with  art,  the 
handmaid  of  religion  ;  passing  through  the 
era  in  which  the  sciences  were  so  few  and 
rudimentary  as  to  be  simultaneously  culti- 
vated by  the  same  philosophers  ;  and  ending 
with  the  era  in  which  the  genera  and  species 
are  so  numerous  that  few  can  enumerate 
them,  and  no  one  can  adequately  grasp  even 
one  genus.  Or  we  might  do  tlie  like  with 
architecture,  with  the  drama,  with  dress. 

But  doubtless  the  reader  is  already  weary 
of  illustrations  ;  and  our  promi.se  has  been 
amply  fulfilled.  We  believe  we  have  .shown 
beyond  question,  that  that  which  the  German 
physiologi.sts  have  found  to  be  the  law  cf 
organic  development  is  the  law  of  all  devel- 
opment. The  advance  from  the  simple  to 
the  complex,  through  a  process  of  successive 
differentiations,  is  seen  alike  in  the  earliest 
changes  of  the  universe  to  which  we  can 
reason  our  way  back  ;  and  in  the  earliest 
changes  which  we  can  inductively  establish  ; 
it  is  seen  in  the  geologic  and  climatic  evolu- 
tion of  the  earth,  and  of  every  single  organ- 
ism on  its  surfa<-e  ;  it  is  seen  in  the  evolution 
of  humanity,  whether  contemplated  in  the 
civilized  individual  or  in  the  aggregation  of 
races  ;  it  is  seen  in  the  evolution  of  society 
in  respect  alike  of  its  political,  its  religious, 
and  its  economical  organization  ;  and  it  is 
seen  in  the  evolution  of  all  those  endless  con- 
crete and  abstract  products  of  human  activ- 
ity which  constitute  the  environment  of  our 
daily  life.  From  the  remotest  past  which 
science  can  fathom,  up  to  the  novelties  of 
yesterday,  that  in  which  progress  essentially 
consists,  IS  the  trauHformuliou  of  th»»  homo- 
geneous into  the  heterogeneous. 

And  now,  from  this  uniformity  of  proced- 
ure, may  we  not  infer  some  fundamental 
necessity  whence  it  results?  May  we  not 
rationaliy  seek  for  some  all  j)ervading  prin- 
ciple which  determines  this  all-pervading 
process  of  things?  Does  not  the  universality 
of  the  law  imply  a  universal  cause  f 

That  we  can  fathom  such  cau.ce,  noume- 
nally  considered,  is  not  to  be  supposed.  To 
do  this  would  be  to  solve  that  ultimate  mys- 
tery which  must  ever  transcend  human  intel 
ligence.  But  it  still  may  be  possible  for  us 
to  reduce  the  law  of  all  progress,  above  estab- 
lished, from  the  condition  of  an  empirical 
generalization,  to  the  condition  of  a  rational 
generalization.  Just  as  it  was  possible  to 
interpret  Kepler's  laws  as  necessary  conse- 
quences of  the  law  of  gravitation  ;  so  it  may 
be  possible  to  interpiet  this  law  of  prcgiess, 
in  its  multitorm  manifestations,  as  the  neces- 
sary consequence  of  some  similarly  universal 
principle.  As  gravitation  was  assignable  as 
the  caused  each  of  the  groups  of  jihenununa 
which  Kepler  formulated  ;  so  may  seme 
equally  simple  attribute  of  things  be  assign- 


able as  the  cause  of  each  of  the  groups  of 
phenomena  formulated  in  the  foregoing 
pages.  We  maj'  be  able  to  affiliate  all  these 
varied  and  complex  evolutions  of  the  homo- 
geneous into  the  heterogeneous,  upon  certain 
simple  factsof  immediate  experience,  which, 
in  virtue  of  endless  repetition,  we  regard  as 
necessary. 

The  probability  of  a  common  cause,  and 
the  possibility  of  formulating  it,  being 
granted,  it  will  be  well,  before  going  farther, 
to  consider  what  must  be  the  general  char- 
acteristics of  such  cause,  and  in  what  direc- 
tion we  ought  to  look  for  it.  We  can  with 
certainty  predict  that  it  has  a  high  degree  of 
generality  ;  seeing  that  it  is  common  to  such 
infinitely  varied  phenomena  :  just  in  propor- 
tion to  the  universality  of  its  application 
must  be  the  abstractncss  of  its  character. 
We  need  not  expect  to  see  in  it  an  obvious 
solution  of  this  or  that  form  of  progress  ; 
because  it  equally  refers  to  forms  of  progress 
bearing  little  api)arent  resemblance  to  them  : 
its  association  with  multiform  orders  of  facts 
involves  its  disso(  iation  frcm  any  particular 
order  of  facts.  Being  that  which  dclermines 
progress  of  every  kind  —  aslroncmic,  geo- 
logic, organic,  ethnologic,  social,  economic, 
artistic,  etc. — it  must  be  concerned  with 
some  fundamental  attribute  possessed  in 
common  by  these  ;  and  must  be  expressible 
in  terms  of  this  fundamental  attribute.  The 
only  obvious  nspect  in  which  all  kinds  of 
pi  ogress  are  alike,  is,  that  they  arc  modes  of 
clutnge  ;  and  hence,  in  some  characteristic  of 
changes  in  general,  the  des-ired  solution  will 
l)iobably  be  found.  We  may  suspect  d 
priori  that  in  some  law  of  change  lies  the  ex- 
planation of  this  universal  transformation  of 
the  homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous. 

Thus  much  premised,  we  pass  at  once  to  the 
statement  of  the  law,  which  is  this  :  Evei-y 
actite  force  produce  smore  than  one  change — 
every  cause  produces  more  than  one  effect. 

Before  this  law  can  be  duly  comprehended, 
a  few  examples  must  be  looked  at.  When 
one  body  is  struck  against  another,  that 
which  we  usually  regard  as  the  effect  is  a 
change  of  position  or  motion  in  one  or  both 
bodies.  But  a  moment's  thought  shows  us 
that  this  is  a  careless  and  very  incomplete 
view  of  the  matter.  Besides  the  visible 
mechanical  result,  sound  is  produced  ;  or,  to 
speak  accurately,  a  vibration  in  one  or  both 
bodies,  and  in  the  surrounding  air  ;  and 
under  some  circumstances  we  call  this  the 
effect.  Moreover,  the  air  has  not  only  been 
made  to  vibrate,  but  has  had  sundry  currents 
caused  in  it  by  the  transit  of  the  bodies. 
Further,  there  is  a  disarrangement  of  the  par- 
ticles of  the  two  bodies  in  the  neighborhood 
of  their  point  of  collision,  amounting  in 
some  cases  to  a  visible  condensation.  Yet 
more,  this  condensation  is  accompanied  by 
the  disengagement  of  heat.  In  some  cases  a 
spur's — that  is,  light— results,  from  the  in- 
candescence of  a  portion  struck  off  ;  and 
sometimes  this  incandescence  is  associated 
with  chemical  combination. 

Thus,  by  the  ori;jinal  mechanical  force  ex- 


214 


rnOGRESS:   ITS   LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


pended  in  the  collision,  at  least  five,  and 
often  more,  different  kinds  of  chanircs  have 
been  produced.  Take,  ag:iin,  the  lighting  of 
a  caudle.  Primarily  this  is  a  chemical 
change  consequent  on  a  lise  of  temperature. 
The  process  ot  combination  having  once  been 
set  going  by  extraneous  heat,  tliere  is  a  con- 
tinued formation  of  carb(>nic  acid,  water,  etc. 
— in  itself  a  result  more  coniplex  than  the  ex- 
traneous heat  that  tirst  caused  it.  But  ac- 
compiiuyiug  this  process  of  combination 
there  is  a  production  of  heat  ;  thete  is  a  pro 
duclion  of  light ;  there  is  an  ascending  col- 
umn of  hot  gases  generated  ;  there  are  cur- 
rents estai)lished  in  the  surrounding  air. 
Moreover,  the  decomposition  of  one  force  into 
many  forces  does  not  end  here  :  each  of  the 
several  changes  produced  bectimes  the  parent 
of  further  changes.  The  carbonic  ncid  given 
off  wdl  by  and  by  combine  willi  sume  base  ; 
or  under  the  influence  of  sunshine  give  up 
its  carbon  to  the  leaf  of  a  plant.  The  water 
will  modify  the  hygromctric  state  of  the  air 
around  ;  or,  if  the  current  of  hot  gases  con- 
taining it  come  against  n  cold  body,  will  bo 
condensed  :  altering  the  temperature,  and 
perhaps  the  chemical  state,  of  the  surface  it 
covers.  The  heat  given  out  melts  tiie  sub- 
jacent tallow,  an<t  expands  whatever  it 
warms.  The  light,  falling  on  various  sub- 
stances, calls  forth  from  them  reactions  by 
which  it  is  modilied  ;  and  so  divera  colors 
are  produced.  Similarly  even  with  these 
secandary  actions,  which  may  be  traced  out 
into  ever-multiplying  ramilications,  until  they 
become  too  minute  to  be  appreciated.  And 
thus  it  is  with  all  changes  whatever.  No 
case  can  be  named  in  which  an  active  force 
does  not  ev  ilve  forces  of  several  kinds,  and 
each  of  these,  other  groups  of  forces.  Uru- 
versally  the  effect  is  more  complex  than  the 
cause. 

Doubtless  the  reader  already  foresees  the 
course  of  our  argument.  This  multiplication 
of  results,  which  is  displayed  in  every  event 
of  to-day,  has  been  going  on  from  the  begin- 
ning ;  and  is  true  of  the  grandest  phenomena 
of  the  universe  as  of  the  most  insigniticant. 
From  the  law  that  every  active  force  pro- 
duces more  than  one  change,  it  is  an  inevi- 
table corollary  that  through  all  time  there 
has  been  an  ever-growing  complication  of 
things.  Starting  with  the  ultimate  fact  that 
every  cause  produces  more  thau  one  effect, 
we  may  readily  see  that  throughout  creation 
there  must  have  gone  on,  and  nmst  still  go 
on,  a  never-ceasing  transformation  of  the 
homogeneous  into  the  heterogeneous.  But 
let  us  trace  out  this  truth  in  detail.* 


♦  A  correlative  truth  which  ought  also  to  be  taken 
into  account  (that  the  state  of  homogeneity  is  one  of 
nustabli-  equilibrinm),  but  which  it  would  greatly  en- 
cumber the  argument  to  exemplify  in  connection  with 
the  above,  will  be  found  developed  in  the  es^say  on 
"  Transcendental  Physiology." 

t  The  idea  that  the  Nebular  Hypothesis  has  been 
disproved  because  what  were  thought  to  be  exijiting 
ne!iula>  h.ive  been  resolved  into  clusters  of  stars  is 
almost  beneath  notice.  }i.  i>riori  it  was  highly  im- 
probable, if  not  impos'^ible,  ihat  nebulous  mass^es 
should  t^till  remain  unconden.sed,  while  others  have 
beiu  condensed  millions  of  years  ago. 


Without  committing  ourselves  tr)  it  as 
more  than  a  speculation,  though  a  highly 
I)robableone,  let  us  again  conunence  wiih  the 
evolution  of  the  solar  system  out  of  a  nebu- 
lous medium. f  From  the  mutual  attraction 
of  the  atoms  of  a  diffused  mass  whose  form 
is  unsymmetrical,  there  results  net  only  con 
densation  but  rotation  :  gravitation  einml- 
taneously  generates  both  the  centriiietal  and 
the  centrifugal  forces.  While  the  cimdensa- 
tion  and  the  rate  of  rotation  are  progressively 
increasing,  the  approach  of  the  atoms  neces- 
sarily generates  a  progressively  increasing 
temperature.  As  this  temperature  rises,  light 
begins  to  be  evolved  ;  and  ultimately  there 
restdts  a  revolving  sphere  of  lluid  matter 
radiating  inten.se  heat  and  light — a  sun. 

There  are  goo<l  reasons  for  believing  that, 
in  consequence  of  the  high  tangential  veloc- 
it}',  and  consequent  centrifugal  force,  ac- 
quired by  the  outer  parts  of  the  condensing 
nebulous  mass,  there  must  be  a  periodical 
detachment  of  rotating  rings  ;  and  that,  from 
the  breaking  up  of  these  nel)ulous  rings, 
there  must  arise  masses  which  in  the  courso 
of  their  condensation  repeat  the  actions  of 
the  parent  mass,  and  so  produce  planets  and 
their  satellites— an  inference  strongly  sup- 
ported by  the  still  extant  rings  of  Saturn. 

Shouhl  it  hereafter  bo  satisfactorily  shown 
that  planets  and  satellites  were  tlms  gener- 
ated, a  striking  illustration  will  l)c  afforded 
of  the  highly  heterogeneous  effects  produced 
Ity  the  primary  homogeneous  cause  ;  but  it 
will  serve  our  present  ptirpose  to  point  to  the 
fact  that  from  the  nuitual  attraction  of  the 
jiarticlcs  of  an  irregular  nebulous  mass  there 
result  condensation,  rotation,  heat,  and  light. 

It  follows  as  a  corollary  from  the  nebular 
liypothesis,  that  the  earth  must  at  first  have 
been  incandescent  ;  and  whether  the  nebular 
hypothesis  be  true  or  not.  this  original  in- 
candescence of  the  earth  is  now  inductively 
established — or,  if  not  established,  at  least 
rendered  so  highly  probable  that  it  is  a  gen- 
erally admitted  geological  doctrine.  Let  us 
look  first  at  the  astronomical  attributes  of 
this  once  molten  globe.  From  its  rotation 
there  result  the  oblateness  of  its  form,  the 
alternations  of  day  and  night,  and  (under  the 
influence  of  the  moon)  the  tides,  aqueous  and 
atmospheric.  From  the  inclination  of  its 
axis  there  result  the  precession  of  the  equi- 
noxes and  the  many  differences  of  the  seasons, 
both  simultaneous  and  successive,  that  per- 
vade its  surface.  Thus  the  multiplication  of 
effects  is  obvious.  Several  of  the  differenti- 
ations due  to  the  gradual  cooling  of  the  earth 
have  been  already  noticed — as  the  formation 
of  a  crust,  the  solidification  of  sublimed  ele- 
ments, the  precipitation  of  water,  etc. — and 
we  here  again  refer  to  them  merely  to  point 
out  that  they  are  simultaneous  effects  of  the 
one  cause,  diminishing  heat. 

Let  us  now,  however,  observe  the  multi- 
plied changes  afterward  arising  from  the 
continuance  of  this  one  cause.  The  cooling 
of  the  earth  involves  its  contraction.  Hence 
the  solid  crust  first  formed  is  presently  too 
large  for  the  shrinking  nucleus  ;  and  as  it 


PROGRESS:   ITS  L.VTT   AND   CAUSE. 


245 


cannot  support  itself,  inevitably  follows  the 
nucleus.  But  a  spheroidal  envelope  cannot 
sink  down  into  contact  with  a  smaller  inler- 
nal  spheroid  without  disruption  ;  it  must 
run  into  wrinkles  as  the  rind  cf  an  apple 
does  when  the  bidk  of  its  interior  decreases 
from  evaporation.  As  the  cooling  progresses 
and  the  envelope  thickens,  the  ridges  conse- 
tjuent  on  these  contractions  must  become 
i:reater,  rising  ultimatel}'  into  hills  and 
mountains  ;  and  the  later  systems  of  moun- 
tains thus  produced  must  not  only  be  higher, 
as  we  find  them  to  be,  but  the3'-  mtist  be 
longer,  as  we  also  find  them  to  be.  Thus, 
leaving  out  of  view  other  modifying  forces, 
we  see  what  immense  heterogeneity  of  sur- 
face has  arisen  from  the  one  cause,  loss  of 
heat — a  heterogeneity  which  the  telescope 
shows  us  to  be  parallel  on  the  face  of  the 
moon,  where  aqueous  and  atmospheric  agen- 
cies have  been  absent. 

But  we  have  yet  to  notice  another  kind  of 
heterogeneity  of  surface  similarly  and  simul- 
taneously caused.  "While  the  earth's  crust 
was  still  thin,  the  ridges  produced  by  its 
contraction  must  not  only  have  been  small, 
but  the  spaces  between  these  ridges  must 
have  restccl  with  great  evenness  upon  the  sub- 
jacent liquid  spheroid  ;  and  the  water  in  those 
arctic  and  antarctic  regions  in  which  it  first 
condensed  must  have  been  evenly  distrib- 
uted. But  as  fast  as  the  crust  grew  thicker 
and  gained  corresponding  strength,  the  lines 
of  fracture  from  lime  to  time  caused  in  it 
must  have  occurred  at  greater  distances 
apart  ;  llie  iulcrnRdiute  surfaces  must  have 
followed  the  contracting  nucleus  with  less 
uniformity  ;  and  there  mu.st  have  resulted 
larger  areas  of  land  and  water.  If  any  one 
after  wrapping  up  an  orange  in  wet  tissue 
paper,  and  observing  not  only  how  small  are 
the  wrinkles  but  how  evenly  the  intervening 
spaces  lie  upon  the  surface  of  the  orange, 
win  then  wrap  it  up  in  thick  cartridge-paper, 
and  note  both  the  greater  height  of  tiie  rid/res 
and  themuch  largerspacesthrnughout  which 
the  paper  does  not  touch  the  orange,  he  will 
realize  the  fact,  that  as  the  earth's  solid  en- 
velope grew  thicker,  the  areas  of  elevation 
and  depression  must  have  become  greater. 
In  place  of  islands  more  or  less  homogcnc- 
<;usly  scattered  over  an  all-embracing  sea, 
there  must  have  gradually  arisen  heterogene- 
ous arrangements  of  continent  and  ocean, 
such  as  we  now  know. 

Once  more,  this  double  change  in  the  ex- 
tent and  in  the  elevation  of  the  lands,  in- 
,  volved  yet  another  species  of  heterogeneity, 
that  of  coast-line.  A  tolerably  even  surface 
raised  out  of  the  ocean  must  have  a  simple, 
regular  sea-margin  ;  but  a  surface  varied  by 
table-lands  and  intersected  by  mountain- 
chains  must,  when  raised  out  of  tlie  ocean, 
have  an  outline  extremely  irregular  both  in 
its  leading  features  and  in  its  details.  Thus 
endless  is  the  accumulation  of  geological  and 
geographical  results  slowly  brought  about 
by  this  one  cause — the  contraction  of  the 
earth. 

When  wc  pass  from  the  agency  which  ge- 


ologists term  igneous,  to  aqueous  and  at- 
mospheric agencies,  we  see  the  like  ever- 
growing complications  of  ellects.  The  de- 
nuding actions  of  air  and  water  have,  from 
the  beginning,  been  modifying  every  exposed 
surface  ;  everywhere  causing  many  diHerent 
changes.  Oxidation,  heat,  wind,  frost,  rain, 
glaciers,  rivers,  tides,  waves,  have  been  un- 
cejvsingly  producing  disintegration  ;  varying 
in  kind  and  amount  according  to  local  cir- 
cumstances. Acting  upon  a  tract  of  granite, 
they  here  work  scarcely  an  appreciable 
effect ;  there  cause  exfoliations  of  the  surface 
and  a  resulting  heap  of  dtbris  and  boulders  ; 
and  elsewhere,  after  decomposing  the  feld- 
spar into  a  white  clay,  carry  away  this  and 
the  accompanying  quartz  and  mica,  and  de- 
posit them  in  separate  b(ds,  fiuviatile  and 
marine.  When  the  exposed  land  consists  of 
several  unlike  formations,  sedimentary  and 
igneous,  the  denudation  produces  changes 
proportional)ly  more  heterogeneous.  Iho 
formations  being  disintegrable  in  different 
degrees,  there  follows  an  increased  irregular- 
ity of  surface.  Theare  as  drained  by  different 
rivers  l)eing  differently  constituted,  these 
rivers  carry  down  to  the  sea  different  combi- 
nations of  ingredients  ;  and  so  sundry  new 
strata  of  distinct  composition  are  formed. 

And  here  indeed  we  may  see  very  simply 
illustraterl,  the  truth, which  we  shall  presently 
have  to  trace  out  in  more  involved  cases,  that 
in  proportion  to  the  heterogeneity  of  the  ob- 
ject or  objects  on  which  any  force  expends 
itself,  is  the  heterogeneity  of  the  results.  A 
continent  of  complex  structure,  exposing 
uiany  strata  irregularly  distributed,  raised  to 
various  levels,  tilted  up  at  all  angles,  must, 
under  the  same  denuding  agencies,  give  ori- 
gin to  immensely  multiplied  results  ;  each 
district  must  be  differently  modified  ;  each 
river  must  carry  down  a  different  kind  of 
detritus  ;  each  deposit  must  lie  differently  dis- 
tributed by  the  entangled  currents,  tidal  and 
other,  which  wash  the  contorted  shores  ;  and 
this  multiplication  of  results  must  manifestly 
be  greatest  where  the  complexity  of  the  sur- 
face is  greatest. 

It  is  out  of  the  question  here  to  trace  in  de- 
tail the  genesis  of  those  endless  complications 
described  by  geology  and  physical  geog- 
raphy :  else  we  might  show  how  the  general 
truth,  that  every  active  force  pr(jduccs  more 
tlian  one  change,  is  exemplified  in  the  highly 
involved  fiow  of  the  tides,  in  the  ocean  cur- 
rents,  in  the  winds,  in  the  distribution  of 
rain,  in  tiie  (li>lribulion  of  heat,  and  so  forth. 
But  not  to  dwell  upon  these,  let  us,  for  the 
fuller  elucidation  of  this  truth  in  relation  to 
the  inorganic  world,  consider  what  would  be 
the  consequences  of  some  extensive  cosmical 
revolution — say  the  subsidence  of  Central 
America. 

The  immediate  results  of  the  disturbance 
would  themselves  be  suflicienlly  complex. 
Besides  tlie  numberless  dislocations  of  strata, 
the  ejections  of  igneous  matter,  the  propaga- 
tion of  earthquake  vibrations  thousands  of 
miles  around,  the  loud  explosions,  and  the 
escape  of  gases,  there  would  be  the  rush  of 


246 


PROGRESS:   ITS   LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


the  Atlantic  aud  Pacific  Oceans  to  supply 
the  vacant  space,  the  sa'jsequent  recoil  of 
enormous  waves,  wliicli  would  traverse  both 
these  oceans  and  i)r()diice  myriads  of  rhangts 
along  their  siiores,  the  corrt'spnndin!^  atmos- 
pheric waves  complicated  by  tiie  currents  sur- 
rounding eacli  volcanic  vent, and  the  electrical 
discharges  with  wiiich  such  disturbances  are 
accompanied.  But  these  temporary  effects 
■would  be  insignificant  compared  with  the  per- 
manent ones.  The  complex  currents  of  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  would  be  altered  in  di- 
rection and  amount.  The  distribution  of 
lieat  achieved  by  these  ocean  currents  would 
be  different  from  wiiat  it  is.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  i-sothermal  lines,  not  even  on  the 
neighboring  continents,  but  even  throughout 
Europe,  would  be  changed.  The  tidt-s  would 
liow  differently  from  wiiat  they  do  now. 
There  would  be  more  or  less  modificalion  of 
the  winds  in  their  periods,  strengths,  direc- 
tions, qualities.  Rain  would  fall  scarcely 
anywhere  at  the  same  times  and  in  the  same 
quantities  as  at  present,  in  short,  the  me- 
teorological conditions  thousands  of  miles 
off,  on  all  sides,  would  be  more  or  less  revo- 
lutionized. 

Thus,  without  taking  into  account  the 
infinitude  of  modifications  which  these 
changes  of  climate  would  produce  upon  the 
flora  and  fauna,  bolli  of  land  and  sea,  the 
reader  will  see  the  immense  heterogeneity  of 
the  results  wrought  out  by  one  force,  when 
that  force  expends  itself  upon  a  previously 
complicated  area  ;  and  he  will  readily  draw 
the  corollary  that  from  the  beginning  the  com- 
plication has  advanced  at  an  increasing  rate. 

Before  going  on  to  show  howoriranic  prog- 
ress also  depends  ui)on  the  universal  law 
that  every  force  produces  more  tlian  one 
change,  we  have  to  notice  the  manifestation 
of  this  law  in  yet  another  species  of  inor- 
ganic progress — namely,  chemical.  The 
same  general  causes  that  have  wrought  out 
the  heterogeneity  of  the  earth,  physically 
considered,  have  simultaneouslv  wrought  out 
its  chemical  heterogeneity.  Without  dwell- 
ing upon  the  general  fact  that  the  forces 
"Which  have  been  increasing  the  variety  and 
complexity  of  geological  formations,  have. 
at  the  same  time,  been  i)ringing  into  contact 
elements  not  previously  exposed  to  each 
other  under  conditions  favorable  to  union, 
and  so  have  been  adding  to  the  number  of 
chemical  compounds,  let  us  pass  to  the  more 
important  complications  that  have  resulted 
from  the  cooling  of  the  earth. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  at  an 
extreme  heat  the  elements  cannot  combine. 
Even  under  such  heat  as  can  be  artificially 
produced,  some  very  strong  affinities  yield, 
as  for  instance,  that  of  oxygen  for  hydro- 
gen ;  and  the  great  majority  of  chemical 
compounds  are  decomposed  at  much  lower 
temperatures.  But  without  insisting  upon 
the  higldy  probable  inference,  that  when  the 
earth  was  in  its  first  state  of  incandescence 
there  were  no  chemical  combinations  at  all, 
it  will  suffice  our  purpose  to  point  to  the  un 
(iuestionable  fact  that  the  compounds  that  car 


exist  at  the  highest  temperatures,  and  whictj 
must,  therefore,  have  been  the  first  that  were 
formed  as  the  earth  cooled,  are  tho.se  of  the 
simplest  constitutions.  The  protoxides — in- 
cUuling  under  that  head  the  alkalies,  earths, 
etc. — arc.  as  a  class,  the  most  slabl«>  com- 
pountls  we  know  :  most  of  them  resisting  de- 
composition by  any  heat  we  can  generate. 
The.se,  consisting  severally  of  one  atom  of 
each  component  element,  are  combinations 
of  the  simplest  order — are  but  one  degree  less 
honiog(  iicous  than  the  elements  themselves. 
iVIorc  iH't<Togeneous  than  these,  less  stable, 
aud  therefore  later  in  the  earth's  history,  are 
the  (leutoxides,  tritoxides,  peroxides,  etc.  ;  in 
which  two,  three,  four  or  more  atoms  of  oxy- 
gen ate  united  willi  one  atom  of  metal  or  other 
element.  Higher  than  these  in  heterogeneity 
are  the  hydrates  ;  in  which  an  oxide  of  hy- 
drogen, united  with  an  oxide  of  some  other 
clement,  forms  a  !>vd)stancc  whose  atoms  sev- 
erally contain  at  least  four  ultimate  atoms 
of  three  different  kinds.  Yet  more  hetero- 
geneous and  less  .stable  still  are  the  salts  ; 
which  piescnt  us  willi  compound  atoms  each 
made  up  of  five,  six,  seven,  eight,  ten,  twelve, 
or  more  atoms,  of  three,  if  not  more  kinds. 
Then  there  are  the  hydrated  salts,  of  a  yet 
greater  heterogeneity,  which  undergo  partial 
decomposition  at  much  lower  temperatures. 
After  them  come  the  further  complicjited 
supersalts  and  double  salts,  having  a  stability 
again  decreased  ;  and  so  throughout.  With- 
out entering  into  (pialifications  for  which  we 
lack  space,  we  believe  no  chemist  will  deny 
it  to  be  a  general  law  of  these  inorganic 
combinations  that,  other  things  eqiiai,  the 
stability  decreases  as  the  complexity  in- 
cre!i.-es. 

And  then  when  we  pass  to  the  compounds 
of  (Jiganu- chenii.slry.we  find  this  general  law 
still  further  exemplified  :  we  find  much 
greater  complexity  and  much  less  stability. 
An  atom  of  albumen,  for  instance,  consists 
of  •l.'S^  ultimate  atoms  of  five  different  kinds. 
Fibrine,  still  more  intricate  in  constitution, 
contains  in  each  atom,  2!»8  atoms  of  carbon, 
40  of  nitrogen,  3  of  sul()hur,  )12S  of  hydro- 
gen, and  92  of  oxygen — in  all,  (5G0  atoms  ;  or, 
more  strictly  speaking — equivalents.  And 
these  two  substances  are  so  unstable  as  to 
decompose  at  quite  ordinary  temperatures  : 
as  that  to  which  the  outside  of  a  joint  of  roast 
meat  is  exposed.  Thus  it  is  manifest  that 
the  present  chemical  heterogeneity  of  the 
earth's  surface  has  arisen  by  degrees,  as  the 
decrease  of  heat  has  permitted  ;  and  that  it 
has  shown  itself  in  three  forms — first,  in  the. 
multiplication  of  chemical  compounds  ;  sec- 
end,  in  the  greater  number  of  different  ele- 
ments contained  in  the  more  modern  of  these 
compoimds  ;  and  third,  in  the  higher  and 
more  varied  multiples  in  which  these  more 
numerous  elements  combine. 

To  say  that  this  advance  in  chemical  hete- 
rogeneity is  due  to  the  one  cause,  diminution 
of  the  earth's  temperature,  would  be  to  say 
too  much  ;  for  it  is  clear  that  aqueous  and  at- 
mospheric agencies  have  been  concerned ; 
and,  further,  that   the  aflflnities  of  the  ele- 


PROGRESS:   ITS   LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


247 


ments  themselves  are  implied.  The  cause  has 
all  aluug  been  a  composite  one  :  the  cooling 
of  the  earth  having  been  simplj'  the  most 
general  of  the  concurrent  causes,  or  assem- 
blage of  conditions.  And  here,  indeed,  it 
may  be  remarked  that  in  the  several  classes 
of  facts  already  dealt  with  (excepting,  per- 
haps, the  first)  and  still  more  in  those  with 
which  we  siiall  presently  deal,  the  causes 
are  more  or  less  compound  ;  as  indeed  are 
nearly  all  causes  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted. Scarcely  any  change  can  with 
logical  accuracy  be  wholly  ascribed  to  one 
agency,  to  the  neglect  of  the  permanent  or 
temporary  conditions  under  which  onl}"  this 
agency  produces  the  change.  But  as  it  does 
not  materially  affect  our  argument,  we  pre- 
fer for  simplicity's  sake,  to  use  throughout 
the  ])opuIar  mode  of  expression. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  further  objected,  that  to 
assign  loss  ot  heat  as  the  cause  of  any 
changes,  is  to  attribute  these  changes  not  to 
a  force,  but  to  the  absence  of  a  force.  And 
this  is  true.  Strictly  speaking,  the  changes 
should  be  attributed  to  those  forces  which 
come  into  action  when  the  antagonist  force 
is  withdrawn.  But  though  there  is  an  inac- 
curacy in  saying  that  the  Ueer.wj  of  water 
is  due  to  the  loss  of  its  heat,  i;  >  \  rticticul 
error  arises  from  it  ;  nor  will  a  p;u;dlel  laxity 
of  expression  vitiate  our  blalemeuls  rcspet  I- 
ing  the  muUiplicat inn  of  effects.  Indeed.  Ihc 
objection  serves  but  to  dnxw  attcnti.-in  to  the- 
fact,  that  not  only  does  the  exertion  of  a 
force  produce  more  than  one  change,  but  the 
withdrawal  of  a  force  produces  more  than 
one  change.  And  this  suggests  that  pcrhajts 
the  most  correct  statement  of  our  general 
principle  would  be  its  most  abstract  state- 
ment—every change  is  followed  by  more 
than  one  other  change. 

Returning  to  the  thread  of  our  exposition, 
we  have  next  to  trace  out,  in  organic 
I)rogress.  this  same  all-pervading  principle. 
And  here,  where  the  evolution  of  llic  homo- 
geneous into  the  heterogeneous  was  first  ob- 
served, the  production  of  many  changes  by 
one  cause  is  least  easy  to  demonstrate.  The 
development  of  a  seed  into  a  plant,  or  an 
ovum  into  an  animal,  is  so  gradual,  while  the 
forces  wliich  determine  it  are  so  involved, 
and  at  the  same  time  so  unobtrusive,  that  it 
is  dithcult  to  detect  the  multiplication  of 
effects  which  is  elsewhere  so  obvious.  Never- 
theless, guided  by  indirect  evidence,  we  may 
pretty  safely  reach  the  conclusion  that  here 
too  the  law  holds. 

Observe,  first,  how  numerous  are  the  effects 
which  any  marked  change  wniks  upon  an 
adult  organism — a  human  being,  for  in- 
stance. An  alarming  sound  or  sight,  besides 
the  inipres.'^ions  on  the  organs  of  sense  and 
the  nerves,  may  produce  a  start,  a  scream,  a 
distortion  of  Ibe  face,  a  trembling  conse- 
quent upon  a  gtui-ral  muscular  relaxation,  a 
burst  of  perspiration,  an  excited  action  of 
the  heart,  a  rush  of  blood  to  the  brain,  fol- 
lowed possibly  by  arrest  of  the  heart's  action 
and  by  syncope  :  and  if  the  system  be  feeble, 
an  indisposition  with  its  l<,ng  train  of  com- 


phcated  symptoms  may  set  in.  Similarly  in 
cases  of  disease.  A  minute  portion  of  the 
small-pox  virus  introduced  into  the  system 
will,  in  a  severe  case,  cause,  during  the  first 
stage,  rigors,  heat  of  skin,  accelerated  pulse, 
furred  tongue,  loes  of  appetite,  thirst,  epi- 
gastric uneasiness,  vomiting,  headache,  pains 
in  the  back  and  limbs,  muscular  weakness, 
convulsions,  delirium,  etc.  ;  in  the  second 
stage,  cutaneous  eruption,  itching,  tingling, 
sore  throat,  swelled  fauces,  salivation,  cough, 
hoarseness,  dyspnaa,  etc.,  and  in  the  third 
stage,  oedematous  inflanmiations,  pneumonia, 
pleurisy,  diarrhcca,  inflammation  of  the 
brain,  ophthalmia,  erysipelas,  etc.  ;  each  of 
which  enumerated  symptoms  is  itself  more 
or  less  complex.  >Iedicines,  special  foods, 
better  air,  might  in  like  manner  be  instanced 
as  producing'multiplied  results. 

Now  it  needs  only  to  consider  that  the 
many  changes  thus  wrought  by  one  force 
upon  an  adult  organism,  will  be  in  part  par- 
alleled in  an  embryo  organism,  to  understand 
how  here  also,  the  evolution  of  the  homo- 
geneous into  the  heterogeneous  may  be  duo 
to  the  production  of  many  effects  by  one 
cause.  The  external  heat  and  other  agencies 
wliich  determine  the  first  complications  of 
the  germ,  may,  by  acting  upon  these,  super- 
induce further  complications  ;  upon  these 
still  higher  and  more  numerous  ones  ;  and  so 
on  continually  :  each  organ  as  it  is  developed 
serving,  b}'  its  actins  and  rractinns  ur)r,n 
the  rt-st.  to  initiate  new  complexities.  The 
first  pulsations  of  the  fa?tal  heart  must  simul- 
taneously aid  the  unfolding  of  every  jiart. 
The  growth  of  each  tissue,  by  taking  from 
the  blood  special  proportions  of  elements, 
must  modify  the  constitution  of  the  blood  ; 
and  .so  must  modify  the  nutrition  of  all  the 
other  ti.si.ues.  The  heart's  action,  implying  as 
it  does  a  certain  waste,  necessitates  an  addi- 
tion to  the  blood  of  effete  matteis,  which 
nnist  influence  the  rest  of  the  system,  and 
l)erhaps,  as  some  think,  cause  the  formation 
of  excretory  organs.  The  nervous  connec- 
tions established  among  the  viscera  must 
further  multiply  their  mutual  influences : 
and  so  continually. 

Still  stronger  becomes  the  probability  of 
this  view  when  we  call  to  mind  the  fact, 
that  the  same  germ  may  be  evolved  into 
different  forms  according  to  circumstances. 
Thus,  during  its  earlier  stages,  every  embryo 
is  .sexless — becomes  either  male  or  female  as 
the  balance  of  forces  acting  upon  it  deter- 
mines. Again,  it  is  a  well-established  fact 
that  the  larva  of  a  working  bee  will  develop 
into  a  queen -bee,  if,  before  it  is  toj  late,  its 
food  be  changed  to  that  on  which  the  larvte 
of  queen-bees  are  fed.  Even  more  rema.^k- 
able  is  the  case  of  certain  entozoa.  The  ovum 
of  a  tapeworm,  getting  into  its  natural 
habitat,  tlie  intestine,  unfolds  into  the  wt;il- 
kmwn  form  of  its  parent  ;  but  if  carried,  as 
it  frequently  is,  into  oth-jr  parts  of  tho  sys- 
tem, it  becom(;s  a  sac-like  cieature,  called  by 
naturalists  the  EMn/fOceus—iicrciinna  bj ex- 
tremely different  from  the  tape-worm  m  as- 
pect and  structure    that   only  after  caieful 


348 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LA.W   AND   CAUSE. 


inrestigations  has  it  been  proved  to  have  the 
samrj  origin.  All  wliich  instances  imply  that 
«ach  advance  in  eml)ryonic  complication  re- 
sults from  the  action  of  incident  forces  upon 
the  complication  previously  existing. 

Indeed,  we  may  Had  d  priori  rea.son  to 
think  that  the  evolution  proceeds  after  this 
mauuer.  For  since  it  is  now  known  that  no 
germ,  animal  or  vegetable,  contains  the 
slightest  rudiment,  trace,  or  indication  of  the 
future  organism — now  that  the  microscope 
has  sliown  us  that  the  fust  process  set  up  in 
every  fertilized  germ  is  a  process  of  re- 
peated spontaneous  tissions,  ending  in  the 
production  of  a  mass  of  cells,  not  one  of 
which  exhibits  any  special  character  :  (here 
seems  no  alternative  but  to  suppose  that  the 
partial  organization  at  any  moment  Bui)sist- 
ing  in  a  growing  embryo,  is  transformed  by 
the  agencies  acting  upon  it  into  the  succeed- 
ing phase  of  organization,  and  this  info  the 
next,  until,  through  ever  increasing  com- 
plexities, the  ultimate  form  is  reached. 
Thus,  though  the  subtilty  of  the  forces  and 
the  slowness  of  the  results  prevent  us  from 
directly  showing  that  the  stages  of  increii.s- 
ing  heterogeneity  through  which  every  em- 
bryo passes,  severally  arise  from  the  produc- 
tion ot  many  changes  l)y  one  force,  yet.  in- 
directly, we  have  strong  evidence  that  they 
do  so. 

We  have  marked  how  multitudinous  are 
the  effects  which  one  cause  may  generate  in  an 
adult  organism  ;  that  a  like  multiplication  of 
effects  must  happen  in  the  unfolding  organ- 
ism we  have  ol)served  in  sundry  illustrative 
cases  ;  further,  it  has  been  pointed  out  that 
the  ability  which  like  germs  have  to  origi- 
nate unlike  forms,  implies  that  thesuccessit^e 
transformations  result  from  the  new  changes 
superinduced  on  previous  changes  ;  and  we 
have  seen  that  structureless  as  every  germ 
originally  is,  the  development  of  an  organ- 
ism out  of  it  is  otherwise  incomprehensible. 
Not  indeed,  that  we  can  thus  really  explain 
the  production  of  any  plant  or  animal.  We 
are  still  in  the  dark  respecting  those  myste- 
rious properties  in  virtue  of  which  the  germ, 
when  subject  to  fit  intluonces,  undergoes  the 
special  changes  that  begin  the  series  of  trans- 
formations. All  we  aim  to  show  is  that, 
given  a  germ  possessing  these  mysterious 
properties,  the  evolution  of  an  organism 
from  it  probably  depends  upon  that  multi- 
plication of  effects  which  we  have  seen  to  be 
the  cause  of  progress  in  general,  so  far  as  we 
have  yet  traced  it. 

When,  leaving  the  development  of  single 
plants  and  animals,  we  pass  to  that  of  the 
earth's  flora  and  fauna,  the  course  of  our 
argument  again  becomes  clear  and  simple. 
Though,  as  was  admitted  in  the  first  part  of 
this  article,  the  fragmentary  facts  palaeon- 
tology has  accumulated,  do  not  clearly  war- 
rant us  in  saying  that,  in  the  lapse  of  geo- 
logic time,  there  have  been  evolved  more 
heterogeneous  organisms,  and  more  hetero- 
geneous assemblages  of  organisms,  yel  we 
shall  now  see  that  there  must  ever  have  been 
a  tendency  toward  these  results.    We  shall 


find  that  the  production  of  many  effects  by 
one  cause,  which,  as  already  shown,  has 
been  all  along  increasing  the  physical  hetero- 
geneity ot  the  earth,  has  further  involved  an 
increasing  heterogeneity  in  its  flora  and 
fauna,  individually  and  collectively.  An  il- 
lustration will  make  this  clear. 

Suppose  that  by  a  series  of  upheavals,  oc- 
curring, as  they  are  now  known  to  do,  al  lung 
intervals,  the  East  Indian  Archipelago  were 
to  be,  step  by  step,  raised  into  a  continent, 
and  a  chain  of  mountains  formed  along  the 
axis  of  elevation.  By  the  first  of  these  up- 
heavals, the  plants  and  animals  inhabiting 
Borneo.  Sumatra,  New  tf  uinea,  and  the  rest, 
would  be  subjected  to  slightly  modified  sets 
of  conditions.  The  climate  in  general  w^ould 
be  altered  in  temperature,  in  humidity,  and 
in  its  periodical  variations  ;  while  the  local 
differences  would  be  multiplied.  These 
modifications  •would  affect,  perhaps  inappre- 
ciably, the  entire  flora  and  fauna  of  the  re- 
gion. The  change  of  level  would  produce 
additional  modifications  :  varying  in  differ- 
ent species,  and  also  in  different  members  of 
the  same  species,  according  to  their  distance 
from  the  axis  of  elevation.  Plants,  growing 
only  on  the  sea-shore  in  special  localities, 
might  become  extinct.  Others,  living  only 
in  swamps  of  a  certain  humidity,  would,  if 
they  survived  at  all,  probably  undergo  visi- 
ble changes  of  appearance.  While  still  great- 
er alterations  would  occur  in  the  jilants  grad- 
ually spreading  over  the  lands  newly  raised 
above  the  sea.  The  animals  and  insects  liv- 
ing on  these  modified  plants,  would  them- 
selves be  in  some  degree  nioditied  by  change 
of  food,  as  well  as  by  change  of  climate  ; 
and  the  modification  would  be  more  marked 
where,  from  the  dwindling  or  disappearance 
of  one  kind  of  plant,  an  allied  kind  was 
eaten.  In  the  lapse  of  the  many  generations 
arising  before  the  next  upheaval,  the  sensible 
or  insensible  alterations  thus  produced  in 
each  species  would  become  organized — there 
■would  be  a  more  or  less  complete  adaptation 
to  the  new  conditions.  The  next  upheaval 
would  superinduce  further  organic  changes, 
implying  wider  divergences  from  the  primary 
forms,  and  so  repeatedly. 

But  now  let  it  be  observed  that  the  revolu- 
tion thus  resulting  would  not  be  a  substitu- 
tion of  a  thousand  more  or  less  modified 
species  for  the  thousand  original  species  ; 
but  in  place  of  the  thousand  original  species 
there  would  arise  several  thousand  species,  or 
varieties,  or  chauged  forms.  Each  species 
being  distributed  over  an  area  of  some  extent, 
and  tending  continually  to  colonize  the  new 
area  exposed,  its  difierent  members  would  be 
subject  to  different  sets  of  changes.  Plants 
and  animals  spreading  toward  the  equator 
would  not  be  affected  in  the  same  way  with 
others  spreading  from  it.  Those  spreading 
toward  the  new  shores  would  undergo 
changes  unlike  the  changes  undergone  by 
those  spreading  into  the  mountains.  Thus, 
each  original  race  of  organisms  would  become 
the  root  from  which  diverged  several  races 
differing  more  or  less  from  it  and  from  each 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


d49 


other  ;  and  while  some  of  these  might  snljse- 
((iieully  disappear,  probably  more  than  cue 
would  survive  in  the  next  geologic  period  : 
the  very  dispersion  itself  increasing  the 
chances  of  survival.  Not  only  would  there 
Le  certain  modifications  thus  caused  l)y 
change  of  physical  conditions  and  food,  but 
also  in  some  cases  other  modifications  caused 
by  change  of  habit.  The  fauna  of  each 
inland,  peopling,  step  by  step,  the  newly- 
raised  tracts,  would  eventually  come  in  con- 
tact witli  the  faunas  of  oilier  islands  ;  and 
some  members  of  these  other  faunas  would 
be  unlike  any  creatures  before  seen.  Her- 
bivores meeting  with  new  beasts  of  prey, 
would,  in  some  cases,  be  led  into  modes  of 
defence  or  escape  differing  from  those  pre- 
viously Used  ;  and  simultaneouHly  the  beasts 
of  prey  would  modify  their  modes  of  pursuit 
and  attack.  "We  know  that  when  circum- 
stances demand  it,  such  changes  of  habit  ilo 
take  place  in  animals  ;  and  we  know  that  if 
the  new  l#bits  become  the  dominant  ones, 
they  mustXventuallj'  in  some  degree  alter  the 
organization. 

Observe,  now,  however,  a  further  crnsc- 
queuce.  There  must  arise  not  simply  a  tend- 
ency toward  tlie  dillcicnliation  of  each  lace 
of  orgaui.sms  into  several  races  ;  but  also  a 
tendency  to  the  occasitmal  picduction  uf  a 
somewhat  higher  organism.  Taken  in  the 
mass  these  divergent  varieties  which  have 
been  caused  by  fresh  physical  cnndilions  and 
liabits  of  life  will  exhibit  changes  quite  in- 
definite in  kind  and  degree  ;  and  clianges 
that  do  not  necessarily  ccnstiiute  an  advance. 
I'robably  in  most  cases  the  modified  type  will 
be  neither  more  nor  less  heteiogeneous  than 
t4ie  oiiginal  one.  In  some  cases  the  habits 
of  life  adopted  being  simpler  than  lieforc,  a 
fcss  helerogenecus  structure  will  n  suit  : 
there  will  be  a  retrogradation.  But  it  mvst 
now  and  then  occur,  that  .'•onie  division  of  a 
tpecies,  falling  into  circunistjinces  which 
give  it  ralhermore  complex  cxptritnces,  and 
demand  actions  tfrnewliat  more  involved, 
will  have  certain  of  its  organs  furtlicr  differ- 
entiated in  iiroportionately  small  degrees — 
will  become  siightl}'  moie  heterogeneous. 

Thus,  in  the natuiai  course  of  things,  there 
will  from  time  to  lime  arise  an  increased 
heterogeneity  both  of  the  earth's  flora  and 
fauna,  and  of  individual  races  included, in 
tliem.  Omitting  detailed  explanations,  and 
allowing  lor  the  qualifications  which  cannot 
here  be  specified,  we  tliiuk  it  is  clear  that 
geological  mutations  have  all  along  tended  to 
«omplicate  the  forms  of  life,  wluther  re- 
garded sepaiately  or  collectively.  The  same 
causes  which  have  ltd  to  the  evolution  of  the 
earth's  ciust  from  the  simple  into  the  com- 
])iex,  have  simultaneously  led  to  a  parallel 
evolution  of  the  life  upon  its  surface.  In 
this  case,  as  injjrevious  ones,  we  see  that  the 
transformation  of  the  homogeneous  into  the 
heterogeneous  is  consequent  upon  the  uni- 
versal principle,  that  every  active  force  pro- 
duces more  than  one  change. 

The  deduction  here  drawn  from  the  estab- 
lished truths  of  geology  and  the  general  laws 


of  life,  gains  immensely  in  weight  on  finding 
it  to  be  in  harmony  with  an  induction  drawn 
from  direct  cxpctience.  Just  that  diver- 
gence  of  many  races  frc^m  one  race.  Which 
we  inferred  must  have  been  continually  oc- 
curring duiing  geologic  time,  we  know  to 
have  occurred  during  the  prehistoric  and 
historic  periods,  in  man  and  domestic  ani- 
mals. And  just  that  multiplication  of  effects 
which  we  concluded  must  hav(?  produced  the 
first,  we  see  has  produced  the  las*.  Single 
causes,  as  famine,  pressure  of  population, 
war,  have  periodically  led  to  further  disper- 
sions of  mankind  and  of  dependent  creat- 
ures :  each  such  dispersion  initiating  new 
modifications,  new  varieties  of  type.  \V  lielher 
ail  the  human  races  be  or  be  not  derived 
from  one  stock,  philology  makes  it  clear  that 
whole  groups  of  races  now  easily  distinguish- 
able from  each  other  were  originally  one  race 
— that  the  diffusion  of  one  race  into  differ- 
ent climates  and  conditions  of  existence  has 
produced  many  modified  forms  of  it. 

Similarly  with  domestic  animals.  Though 
in  some  cases — as  that  of  dogs — comnninity 
of  origin  will  perhaps  be  disputed,  yet  iu 
other  cases — as  that  of  the  sheep  or  the  cattle 
of  our  own  country — it  will  not  be  (pies- 
tioned  that  local  differences  of  climate,  food, 
and  treatment,  have  transfurnied  one  original 
breed  into  numerous  breeds  now  become  so 
far  distinct  as  to  produce  unstable  hybrids. 
^Moreover,  through  the  complications  of 
effects  flowing  from  single  causes,  we  here 
find,  what  we  before  iniferred,  not  only  an 
increase  of  general  heterogeneity,  but  also  of 
.special  heterogeneity.  AVhile  of  the  divergent 
divisions  and  subdivisions  of  the  human  race, 
many  have  undergone  changes  not  constitu- 
ting an  advance  ;  while  in  some  the  type  may 
have  degraded  ;  in  others  it  has  become  de- 
cidedly more  heterogeneous.  The  civilized 
Euroi)ean  departs  more  widely  from  the  ver- 
tebrate archetype  than  does  the  savage. 
Thus,  both  the  law  and  the  cause  of  prog- 
ress, which,  from  lack  of  evidence,  can  be 
but  hypothetically  substantiated  in  respect  of 
the  earlier  forms  of  life  ou  our  globe,  cau  be 
actually  substantiated  in  respect  of  the  latest 
forms. 

If  the  advance  of  man  toward  greater 
heterogeneity  is  traceable  to  the  production 
of  many  cllecls  by  one  cause,  still  more 
clearly  may  the  advance  of  society  toward 
greater  heterogeneity  be  so  explained.  Con- 
sider the  growth  of  an  industrial  organiza- 
tion. Wnen,  as  must  occasionally  happen, 
some  individual  of  a  tribe  displays  unusu- 
al aptitude  for  making  an  article  of  gen- 
eral use — a  weapon,  for  instance — which  was 
before  made  by  each  man  for  himself,  there 
arises  a  tendency  toward  the  differentiation  of 
that  individual  into  a  maker  of  such  weapon. 
His  companions — warriors  and  hunters  all  of 
them— severally  feel  the  importance  of  having 
the  best  weapons  that  can  be  made  ;  and  are 
therefore  certain  to  offer  strong  inducements 
to  this  skilled  individual  to  make  weapons 
for  them.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  having 
not  only  an  unusual  faculty,  but  an  unusual 


250 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


liking,  for  malcing  sucli  weapons  (the  talent 
and  the  desire  for  any  occupatiou  being  com- 
monly iis-jociated),  is  predisposed  to  fulfil 
these  commissions  on  the  oilorof  an  adeqiiutj 
reward  :  especially  as  his  love  of  distinction 
is  also  gratilied.  This  first  specialization  of 
funcliou,  on<;e  commenced,  tends  ever  to  be- 
come more  decitlcd.  On  the  side  of  the  wea- 
pon-maker continued  practice  gives  increased 
skill — increased  superiority  to  his  products  : 
on  the  side  of  his  clients,  cessation  of  practice 
entails  decreased  skill.  Thus  the  influences 
that  determine  this  division  of  labor  grow 
stronger  in  both  ways  ;  and  the  incipient 
heterogeneity  is,  on  the  average  of  cases, 
likely  to  become  permanent  for  that  genera- 
tion, if  no  longer. 

Observe  now,  however,  that  this  process 
not  only  dilferentiates  the  social  mass  int.) 
two  parts,  the  one  monopolizing,  or  almost 
monopolizing,  the  performance  of  a  certain 
function,  and  the  other  having  lost  the  habit, 
and  in  some  measure  the  power,  of  perform- 
ing that  function  ;  but  it  tends  to  imitate 
other  differentiations.    The  advance  we  have 
described  implies  the  introducti  m  of  barter 
— tlie  maker  of  weapons  has,  on  each  occa- 
sion, to  be  paid  in  such   other  articles  as  he 
agrees  to  taki;  in  e.^change.     But  he  will  not 
habitually  take    in    e.vchangj  one   kind   of 
article,  but  many  kinds.     He  does  not  want 
mats  only,  or  skins,  or  Ashing  gear,  but  ho 
wants  all  these  ;  and  on  each  occixsion  will 
bargain   for  the  particular   things  he  most 
needs.     What  follows?    If  among  the  mem- 
bars    of    the    tribe    there    exist    any  sliglit 
differences  of  skill  in   the    manufacture  of 
these  various  things,  as  there  are  almost  sura 
to  do,  the  weapon-maker  will  take  from  each 
one  the  thing  which  that  one  excels  in  mak- 
ing :  he  will  exchange  for  mats   with  him 
whose  mats  are  superior,  and  will  bargain  for 
the   fishing  gear  of  whoever  has  the  best. 
But  he  who  has  bartered  away  his  mats  or  his 
fishing  gear  must  make  other  mats  or  fishing 
gear  for  himself  ;  and  in  so  doing  must,  in 
some  degree,  further  develop   his"  aptitude. 
Thus  it  results  that  the  small  specialities  of 
faculty  possessed  by  various  members  of  the 
tribe  will  tend  to  grow  more  decided.     If  such 
transactions  are  from  time  to  time  repeated, 
tliese     specializations    may    become  appre- 
ciable.    And  whether  or  not  there  ensue  dis- 
tinct differentiations  of  other  individuals  into 
makers  of  particular  articles,  it  is  clear  tliat 
incipient  differentiations  take  place  through- 
out the  tribe  :  the  one  origmal  cause  produces 
not  only  the  first  dual  effect,  but  a  numl)er 
of  secondary  dual  effects,  like  in  kind,  but 
minor  in   degree.     Tliis  process,  of  which 
traces  may  be  seen  among  groups  of  school- 
boys, cannot  well  produce  any  lasting  effects 
in  an  unsettled  tribe  ;  but  where  tiiere  grows 
up  a  fixed  and  multiplying  community,  these 
differentiations  become  permanent,  and  in- 
crease with  each  generation.     A  larger  pop- 
ulation, involving  a  greater  demand  for  every 
commodity,  intensifies  the  functional  activity 
of  each  specialized  person  or  class  ;  and  this 
renders    the    specialization    more     definite 


where  it  already  exists,  and  establishes  it 
where  it  is  nascent.  By  increasing  the  press- 
ure on  the  means  of  subsistence,  a  larger 
population  again  augments  these  results  ; 
seeing  tliat  each  person  is  forced  more  and 
more  to  confine  himself  to  that  which  he  can 
do  best,  and  by  which  he  can  gain  most. 
This  industrial  progress,  by  aiding  future 
production,  opens  the  way  for  a  further 
growth  of  population,  which  reacts  as  be- 
fore :  in  all  which  the  multiplication  of 
effects  is  manifest.  Presently,  under  these 
same  stimuli,  new  occupations  arise.  Com- 
peting workers,  ever  aiming  to  produce  im- 
proved articles,  occiisionally  discover  better 
processes  or  raw  materials.  In  weapons  and 
cutting  tools,  the  substitutirm  of  brunze  for 
stone  entails  upon  him  who  first  makes  it  a 
great  increase  of  demand — so  great  an  in- 
crease that  he  i)resenlly  finds  nil  his  time 
occupied  in  making  the  bronze  for  the  articles 
he  sells,  and  is  obliged  to  depute  the  fashion- 
ing of  these  to  otheis  :  and,  eventually,  the 
making  of  bronze,  thus  gradually  differen- 
tiated from  a  pre-existing  occupation,  be- 
comes an  occupation  by  itself. 

But  now  mark  the  ramified  changes  which 
follow  this  change.  Bronze  soon  replaces 
stone,  not  only  in  the  articles  it  was  first 
used  for,  but  in  many  others— in  arms,  tools, 
and  utensils  of  various  kinds  ;  and  so  affects 
the  manufacture  of  these  things.  Further, 
it  affects  the  processes  which  these  utensils 
subserve,  and  the  resulting  products — modi- 
fies buildings,  carvings,  dress,  personal  dec- 
orations. Vet  again,  it  sets  going  sundry 
m.inufactures  which  were  before  impossible, 
from  lack  of  a  material  fit  for  the  requisite 
tools.  And  all  these  changes  react  on  the  peo- 
ple— increase  their  manipulative  skill,  theii 
intelligence,  their  comfort — refine  their  hab- 
its and  tastes.  Thus  the  evolution  of  a  ho- 
mogeneous society  into  a  heterogeneous  one 
is  clearly  consequent  on  the  general  piiuciple 
that  many  effects  are  produced  by  one  cause. 

Our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  follow  out 
this  process  in  its  higher  complications  :  else 
might  we  show  how  the  localization  of  special 
industries  in  special  parts  ftf  a  kingdom,  ae 
well  as  the  minute  subdivision  of  labor  in  the 
making  of  each  commodity,  are  s-imilarly 
determined.  Or,  turning  to  a  somewhat  dif- 
ferent order  of  illustrations,  we  might  dwell 
on  the  multitudinous  changes — material,  in- 
tellectual,  moral — cau.sed  by  printing  ;  or  the 
further  extensive  series  of  changes  wrought 
by  gunpowder.  But  leaving  the  intermediate 
phases  of  social  development,  let  us  take  a 
few  illustrations  from  its  most  recent  and  its 
passing  phases.  To  trace  the  effec.ts  of 
steam-power,  in  its  manifold  applications  to 
mining,  navigation,  and  manufactures  of  all 
kinds,  would  carry  us  into  unmanageable 
detail.  Let  us  confine  ourselves  to  the  latest 
embodiment  of  steam-power — the  locomotive 
engine. 

This,  as  the  proximate  cause  of  our  rail- 
way system,  has  changed  the  face  of  the 
country,  the  course  of  trade,  and  the  habits 
of  the  people.     Consider,  first,  the  compU- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


251 


cated  sets  of  changes  that  precede  the  making 
of  every  railway— the  provisional   arrangt- 
ments,  the  meetings,  the  registration,  the  trial 
section,  the  parliamentary  survey,  the  litho- 
graphed  plans,  the  books  of  reference,  the 
local  deposits  and  notices,  the  application  to 
Parliament,    the     passing    Standing   Orders 
Committee,  the  tirst,  second,  and  third  read- 
ings ;  each  of  which  brief  heads  indicates  a 
multiplicity  of  transactions,  and  the  devel- 
opment of  sundry  occupations — as  those  of 
engineers,  surveyors,    litliographers,    parlia- 
lEootary  .igents.  share-brokers  ;  and  the  crc- 
aiion  t»f  sundry  others — as  those  of  traffic- 
takers,    reference-takers.      Consider,    next, 
the  yet  more  marked  changes  implied  in  rail- 
way construction — the  cuttings,  embankiugs, 
/       tunnellings,  diversions  of  roads  ;  the  build- 
ing of  bridges  and  stations  ;  the  laying  down 
of  ballast,   sleepers,  and   rails  ;  the  making 
of  engines,  tenders,  carriages  and  wagons  : 
which    processes,    acting    upon    numerous 
trades,  increase  the  importation  of  timber, 
the  quarrj'ing  of  stone,  the  manufacture  of 
iron,    the   mining  of   coal,    the   burning  of 
bricks  :  institute  a  variety  of  special  nuinu- 
factures  weekly  advertised   in   the  liaihruy 
Times  ;  and,  linally,  open  tlie  way  to  sundry 
new  occupations,  as  those  of  drivers,  stokers, 
cleaners,    plate-layers,  etc.,  etc.     And   then 
consider  the  changes,  more  numerous  and 
involved  still,  which  railways  in  action  pro- 
duce on  the  community  at  large.  The  organ- 
ization of  every  business  is  more  or  less  mod- 
ified :  ca.se  of  communication  makes  it  better 
to  do  directly  what  was  before  done  by  proxy  ; 
agencies    are    established  where  pieviously 
they  would  not  have  paid  ;  goods  are  obtained 
from  remote  wholesale  houses  instead  of  near 
retail  ones,  and  commodities  are  used  which 
dist{ince  once  rendered  inaccessible.     Again, 
the  rapidity  and  small  cost  of  carriage  tend 
to  specialize  more  than  ever  the  industries  of 
different  districts — to  contine  each  manufac- 
ture to  the  parts  in  which,  from  local  advan- 
tages, it  can   be  best  carried  on.     Further, 
the  diminished  cost  of  carriage,  facilitating 
distribution,   equalizes  prices,   and  also,  on 
the  average,   lowers  prices  :    tlius  bringing 
divers  ai tides  within  the  means  of  those  be- 
fore unable  to  buy  tlunv,  and  so  increasing 
their  comforts  and  improving  their  liabits. 
At  the  same  time  the  practice  of  travelling  is 
immensely    extended.     Classes    who    never 
before  thought  of  it,  take  annual  trips  to  the 
sea  ;     visit   their    distant    relation.^  ;     make 
tours  ;  and  so  we  are  benefited  in  body,  feel- 
ings,   and    intellect.     Moreover,   the    more 
prompt  transmission  of  letters  and  of  news 
produces  further  changes — makes  the  pulse 
of  the  nation  faster.     Yet  more,  there  arises 
a   wide    dissemination  of    cheap    literature 
through  railway   bookstalls,  and  of  adver- 
tisements in  railway  carriages  :  both  of  thenj 
aiding  ulterior  progress. 

Anei  all  the  innumerable  changes  here 
briefly  indicated  are  consequent  on  the  inven- 
tion of  the  locomotive  engine.  The  social 
01  gun  ism  has  been  rendered  more  hetero- 
geneous in  viitue  of  the  many  new  occupa- 


tions introduced,  and  the  many  old  ones 
further  specialized  ;  prices  in  every  place 
have  been  altered  ;  each  trader  has,  more  or 
less,  modified  his  way  of  eloing  business  ; 
and  almost  every  pcison  has  been  affected  in 
his  actions,  thoughts,  emotions. 

Illustrations  to  the  same  effect  might  be 
indefinitely  accumulated.  That  every  influ- 
ence brought  to  bear  upon  society  works 
multiplied  effects,  and  thai  increase  of  hete- 
rogeneity is  due  to  this  multiplication  of 
effects,  may  be  seen  in  the  history  of  every 
iraele,  every  custom,  every  belief.  But  it  is 
needless  to  give  additional  evidence  of  this. 
The  only  further  fact  demanding  notice  is, 
that  we  here  see  still  more  clearly  than  ever, 
the  truth  before  pointed  out,  that  in  propor- 
tion as  the  area  on  which  any  force  expends 
itself  becomes  heterogeneous,  the  results  are 
in  a  yet  higher  degree  multiplied  in  number 
and  kind.  While  among  the  primitive  tribes 
to  whom  it  was  first  known,  caoutchouc 
caused  but  a  few  changes,  among  ourselves 
the  changes  have  been  so  many  and  varied 
that  the  history  of  them  occupies  a  volume.* 
Upon  the  small  homogeneous  community 
inhabiting  one  of  the  Hebrides  the  electric 
telegraph  would  produce,  were  it  used, 
scai-cely  any  results  ;  but  in  England  the 
results  it  produces  are  multitudinous.  The 
comparatively  simple  organization  under 
which  our  ancestors  lived  five  centuries  ago, 
could  have  undergone  but  few  modifications 
from  an  event  like  the  recent  one  at  Canton  ; 
but  now  the  legislative  decision  respecting  it 
sets  up  many  hundreds  of  complex  modifica- 
tions, each  of  which  will  be  the  parent  of 
numerous  future  ones. 

Space  permittinL',  we  could  willingly  have 
pursueil  the  argument  in  relation  to  all  the 
subtler  results  of  civilization.  As  before, 
we  showed  that  the  law  of  progress  to  which 
the  organic  and  inorgauic  worlds  conform,  is 
also  conformed  to  by  language,  sculpture, 
music,  etc.;  so  might  wc^  here  show  that  the 
cause  which  we  have  hitherto  found  to  de- 
termine progress  holds  in  these  cases  also. 
We  might  demonstrate  in  detail  how,  in  sci- 
ence, an  advance  of  one  division  presently 
advances  other  divisions — iiow  astronom}"" 
has  been  immensely  forwarded  by  discoveries 
in  optics,  while  other  optical  discoveries  have 
initiated  microscopic  anatomy,  and  greatly 
aided  the  growth  of  physiology — how  chem- 
istry has  indirectly  increased  our  knowledge 
of  electricity,  magnetism,  biology,  geology — 
how  electricity  lias  reacted  on  chemistry,  and 
magnetism,  developed  our  views  of  light  and 
heat,  and  disclosed  sundry  laws  of  nervous 
action. 

In  literature  the  same  truth  might  he  ex- 
hibited in  the  manifold  effects  of  the  primi- 
tive my'stery-play,  not  only  as  originating  the 
modern  drama,  but  as  affecting  through  it 
other  kinds  of  poetry  and  fiction  ;  or  in  the 
still  multiplying  forms  of  periodical  litera- 
ture that  have  descended  from  the  first  uews- 

*  "  Personal  Narrative  of  the  Origin  of  the  Caout- 
chonc,  or  India-Kubber  Manufacture  in  JEngland." 
By  Thomas  Hancock. 


252 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


paper,  and  which  have  severally  acted  and 
reacted  oa  other  f  jrms  of  literature  aad  on 
each  otlier.  The  inlliiencc  which  a  new 
school  of  painting — as  that  of  the  pre-RufT  lel- 
ites — exercises  upon  other  schools  ;  tiie  hints 
which  all  kinds  of  pictorial  art  are  deriving 
from  pliotograi)hy  ;  the  complex  results  of 
new  critical  doctrines,  as  those  of  Mr.  Rus- 
kin,  niiglit  severally  be  dwelt  upon  as  dis- 
playing the  like  multiplication  of  etlects. 
Bat  it  would  needlessly  tax  the  reader's  pa- 
tience to  pursue,  in  their  many  ramifications, 
these  various  changes  :  here  become  so  in- 
volved and  subtle  as  to  be  followed  with 
some  dillicuUy. 

Without  further  evidence,  we  venture  to 
think  our  case  is  made  out.  The  imperfec- 
tions of  statement  which  brevity  lias  necessi- 
tated do  not,  we  b^'lieve,  militate  against  the 
propositions  laid  down.  The  qualifications 
here  and  there  demandeil  would  not,  it  made, 
affect  the  inferences.  Though  in  one  in- 
stance, where  suthcient  evidence  is  not  at- 
tainable, we  have  been  unable  to  show  that 
the  law  of  progress  applies,  yet  there  is  high 
probabilit}'  that  the  same  generalization 
holds  which  holds  throughout  the  rest  of 
creation.  Though,  in  tra(;iug  the  genesis  of 
progress,  we  have  fretpiently  spok.'u  of  com- 
plex causes  as  if  they  were  simple  ones,  it 
still  remains  true  that  such  causes  are  far  less 
complex  than  their  results.  Detailed  criti- 
cisms cannot  alTect  our  main  position.  End- 
less facts  go  to  show  that  every  kind  of  prog- 
ress  is  from  the  liomogeneous  to  the  hetero- 
geneous, and  that  it  is  so  because  each  change 
is  followed  by  many  changes.  And  it  is 
significant  that  where  the  facts  are  most  ac- 
cessible and  abundant,  there  are  these  truths 
most  manifest. 

However,  to  avoid  committing  ourselves  to 
more  than  is  j^t  proved,  we  must  be  content 
with  saying  that  such  are  the  law  and  the 
cause  of  all  progress  that  is  known  to  us. 
Should  the  nebular  hypothesis  ever  be  £S- 
tablished,  then  it  will  become  manifest  that 
the  universe  at  large,  like  every  organism, 
was  once  homogeneous  ;  that  as  a  whole,  and 
in  every  detail,  it  has  unceasingly  advanced 
toward  greater  heterogeneity  ;  and  that  its 
heterogeneity  is  still  increasing.  It  will  be 
seen  that  as  in  each  event  of  to-day,  so  from 
the  beginning,  the  decomposition  of  every  ex- 
pended force  into  several  forces  has  been  per- 
petually producing  a  higher  complication  ; 
that  the  increase  of  heterogeneity  so  brought 
about  is  still  going  on,  and  must  continue  to 
go  on  ;  and  that  thus  progress  is  not  an  ac- 
cident, not  a  thing  within  human  control,  but 
a  beneficent  necessity. 

A  few  words  must  be  added  on  the  onto- 
logical  bearings  of  our  argument.  Probably 
,not  a  few  will  conclude  that  here  is  an  at- 
tempted solution  of  the  great  questions  with 
which  philosophy  in  all  ages  has  perplexed 
itself.  Let  none  thus  deceive  themselves. 
Only  such  as  know  not  the  scope  and  the 
limits  of  science  can  fall  into  so  grave  an 
error.  The  foregoing  generalizations  apply, 
not  to  the  genesis  of  things  in  themselves  but 


to  their  genesis  as  manifested  to  the  human 
consciousness.  After  all  that  has  been  said, 
the  ultimate  mystery  remains  just  as  it  was. 
The  explanation  of  that  which  is  explicable 
does  but  bring  out  into  greater  clearness  the 
iiiexplicalik'ness  of  that  which  remains  be- 
hind. However  we  may  succeed  in  rediiring 
the  etiuation  to  its  lowest  terms,  we  are  not 
therel)y  enabled  to  determine  tlie  unknown 
quantity  :  on  the  contrary,  it  only  becomes 
more  manifest  that  the  unknown  quantity 
can  never  be  found. 

Little  as  it  seems  to  do  so,  fearless  inquiry 
tends  continually  to  give  a  firmer  basis  to  all 
true  religion.  'I'he  timid  sectarian,  alarmed 
at  the  progress  of  knowledge,  obliged  tt 
abandon  one  by  one  the  .superstitions  of  his 
ancestors,  and  daily  findmg  his  cherished  l>e 
liefs  more  and  more  shaken,  secretly  fears 
that  all  things  may  some  day  be  explained, 
and  has  a  corresponding  dn-ad  of  science 
thus  evincing  the  protoundest  of  all  infidelity 
— the  fear  lest  the  truth  be  bad.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  sincere  man  of  science,  content  tc 
follow  wherever  the  evidence  leads  Jiim,  be- 
comes by  each  new  inquiry  more  profoundly 
convinced  thai  the  univer.se  is  an  insoluble 
problem.  Alike  in  the  external  and  the  inter 
nal  worlds,  i)e  sees  himself  in  the  midst  of 
perpetual  changes,  of  which  he  can  discover 
neither  the  beginning  nor  the  end.  If, 
tracing  back  the  evolution  of  things,  lie  al- 
lows himself  to  entertain  the  hypothesis  that 
all  matter  once  existed  in  a  diffused  form,  he 
finds  it  utterly  impossible  to  conceive  how 
this  came  to  be  so  ;  and  equally,  if  she  pecu- 
lates on  the  future,  he  can  a.esign  no  limit  to 
the  grand  succession  of  phenomena  ever  un- 
folding themselves  before  him.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  he  looks  inward,  he  perceives  that 
both  terminations  of  the  thread  of  conscious- 
ness are  beyond  his  gra.«:p  :  he  cannot  remem- 
ber when  or  how  consciousness  conmienced, 
and  he  cannot  examine  the  consciousness 
that  at  any  moment  exists  ;  for  only  a  state 
of  consciousness  that  is  already  past  can  be 
come  the  object  of  thought,  and  never  one 
which  is  passing. 

When,  again,  he  turns  from  the  succession 
of  phenomena,  external  or  internal,  to  their 
es.seniial  nature,  he  is  cciuall}'  at  fault. 
Though  he  may  succeed  in  resolving  all  prop- 
erties of  objects  into  manifestations  of  force, 
he  is  not  thereby  enabled  to  realize  what  force 
is  ;  but  finds,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  more 
he  thinks  about  it  the  more  he  is  baffled. 
Similarly,  though  analysis  of  mental  actions 
may  finally  bring  him  down  to  seu.sations  us 
the  original  materials  out  of  which'  all 
thought  is  woven,  he  is  none  the  forwarder  ; 
for  he  cannot  in  the  least  comprehend  sen- 
sation— cannot  even  conceive  how  sensation 
is  possible.  Inward  and  outward  things  he 
thus  discovers  to  be  alike  inscrutable  in  their 
ultimate  genesis  and  nature.  He  sees  that 
the  materialist  and  spiritualist  controversy  is 
a  mere  war  of  words  ;  the  disputants  being 
equally  absurd — each  believing  he  under- 
stands that  which  it  is  impossible  for  any 
man  to  understand.     In  all  directions  his  in- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


253 


vestigations  eventually  bring  him  face  to  face 
with  tlie  unknowable  ;  and  he  yver  more 
clearly  perceives  it  to  be  the  unknowable. 
He  learns  at  once  the  greatness  and  the  little- 
ness of  liuman  intellect.— its  power  in  dealing 
with  all  tluit  comes  within  the  range  of  ex- 
perience ;  its  impotence  in  dealing  with  all 
that  transcends  experience.  lie  feels,  wall 
a  vividuebs  which  no  otheis  can,  the  utter  in- 
coraprehensibleness  of  the  simplest  fact,  con- 
sidered in  itself.  He  alone  tiuly  sees  that 
absolute  knowledge  is  impossible.  He  alono 
knows  that  under  all  things  there  lies  an  im- 
penetrable mystery. 

IL 

THE  PHTSIOLOGY  OF  LAUGHTER. 

Why  do  we  smile  when  a  chiltl  puts  on  a 
tnan's  liat  ?  or  what  induces  us  to  laugh  on 
reading  that  the  corpulent  Gibbon  was  un- 
able to  rise  from  his  knees  after  making  a 
tender  declaration  '!  The  usual  reply  to  such 
questions  is,  that  laughter  results  from  a 
perception  of  incongruity.  Evm  weie  tlicre 
not  on  this  reply  the  ol)vious  criticism  that 
laughter  often  occurs  from  extreme  i)kiisuie 
or  from  mere  vivacity,  there  would  s-liil  re- 
main the  real  problem,  How  comes  a  sense 
of  the  incongiuous  to  be  followed  by  these 
peculiar  bodily  actions  ?  Some  have  alleged 
that  laughter  is  due  to  the  pleasure  of  a  rela- 
tive self-elevation,  which  we  feel  on  seeing 
the  humilialinn  of  others.  But  this  theory, 
whatever  portion  of  truth  it  may  contain,  is, 
in  the  first  place,  open  to  the  fatal  objection 
that  Iheie  are  various  humiliations  to  others 
which  produce  in  us  anything  but  laughter  ; 
and,  in  the  second  place,  it  does  not  iip|)!y 
to  the  many  instances  invvhich  no  one's  dig- 
nity is  implicated  :  as  when  we  laugh  at  a 
good  pun.  Moreover,  like  the  other,  it  is 
merel}'  a  generalization  of  ceitaiu  conditions 
to  laughter,  and  not  an  exjilauation  of  the 
odd  movements  which  occur  under  these 
conditions.  Why,  whin  greatly  delighted, 
or  impressed  with  cerlnin  unexpected  con- 
trasts of  ideas,  should  there  be  a  contraction 
of  particular  facial  muscles,  and  jiarlicular 
muscles  of  the  chest  and  aijdomen  V  Such 
answer  to  this  question  as  maybe  possible, 
can  be  rendered  only  by  physii>logy. 

Every  child  has  made  the  at  it  nipt  to  hold 
the  foot  still  while  it  is  tickled,  and  has 
failed  ;  and  probably  there  is  scarcely  any 
one  Avho  has  not  vainly  tried  to  avoid  wink- 
ing when  a  hand  has  been  suddenly  passed 
before  the  eyes.  These  examples  of  muscu- 
lar movements  which  occur  independently 
of  the  will,  e)r  in  spite  of  it,  illustrate  what 
physiologists  call  reflex  action  ;  as  likewis.'; 
do  sneezing  and  coughing.  To  this  class  ot' 
cases,  in  which  involuutary  motions  are  ac 
companied  by  sensations,  has  to  be  added 
another  class  of  cases,  in  which  involuutary 
motions  are  unaccompanied  by  sensations  : 
instance  the  pulsations  of  the  heart  ;  the 
contractions  of  the  stomach  during  digestion. 
Further,  the  great  mass  of  seemuigly  volun- 
tary acts  in  such  creatures  asinsecis,  worms. 


mollusks,  are  considered  by  physiologists  to 
be  as  purely  automatic  as  is  the  dilatation  or 
closure  of  the  iris  under  variations  in  quan- 
tity of  light  ;  and  similarly  exemplify  the 
law,  thatan  impression  on  the  end  of  au 
afferent  nerve  is  conveyed  to  some  ganglionic 
centre,  and  is  thence  usually  reflected  along 
an  efferent  nerve  to  one  or  more  muscles 
which  it  causes  to  contract. 

In  a  modifled  form  this  principle  holds 
with  voluntary  acts.  Nervous  excitation  al- 
ways (ends  to  beget  muscular  motion  ;  and 
when  it  rises  to  a  certain  intensity,  always 
does  beget  it.  Not  only  in  reflex  actions, 
whether  with  or  without  sensation,  do  we 
see  that  special  nerves,  when  raised  to  a 
state  of  tension,  discharge  themselves  oa 
special  muscles  with  which  they  are  in- 
directly eonnected  ;  but  those  external  ac- 
tions through  which  we  read  the  feelings  of 
others,  show  us  that  under  any  considerable 
tension  the  nervous  system  in  general  dis- 
charges itself  on  the  muscular  system  in  gen- 
eral :  either  with  or  witliout  the  guidance 
of  the  will.  The  shivering  produced  by 
cold  implies  irregular  muscular  contrac- 
tions, which,  though  at  first  only  partly 
involuntary,  become,  when  the  cold  is  ex- 
treme, almost  wliclly  involuntary.  When 
you  have  severely  burned  your  linger,  it  is 
very  diUicult  to  preserve  a  dignilied  com- 
pLiSure  :  contortion  of  face  or  movement  of 
limb  is  pretty  sure  to  follow.  If  a  man  re- 
ceives good  news  with  neither  change  of 
feature  nor  bodily  motion,  it  is  inferred  that 
he  is  not  much  pleased,  or  that  he  has  ex- 
traordinary self-control — either  inference  im- 
plying that  joy  almost  universally  produces 
contraction  of  the  mu.scles  ;  and  so  alters  the 
expression,  or  altitude,  or  both.  And  when 
we  hear  of  the  feats  of  strength  which  men 
have  performed  wlieu  their  lives  were  at  slake 
— when  we  read  how,  in  the  energy  of  despair, 
evon  paralytic  ijalieuls  have  regained  for 
a  lime  the  use  of  liieir  liiiib.s — we  see  still 
moie  clearly  the  relations  between  nervous 
and  muscular  excitements.  It  becomes 
manifest  both  that  emotions  and  sensations 
tend  to  generate  bodily  movements,  and  that 
the  movements  are  vehement  in  proportion 
as  the  emotious  or  sensations  are  inlense.*^ 

This,  however,  is  not  the  sole  direction  in 
which  nervous  excitement  expends  itself. 
Viscesa  as  well  as  muscles  may  receive  the 
discharge.  That  the  heart  anil  blood-vessels 
(which,  indeed,  being  all  contractile,  may  in 
a  restricted  sense  be  cla.ssed  with  the  muscu- 
lar system)  are  (juickiy  affected  by  pleasures 
and  pains,  we  have  daily  proved  to  us.  Every 
sensation  of  any  acuteness  accelerates  the 
pulse  ;  and  how  tsensitive  the  heart  is  to 
emotions  is  testified  by  the  familiar  expres- 
fcious  which  use  heart  and  feeling  Jis  convert- 
ible terms.  Similarly  with  the  digestive 
organs.  Without  detailing  the  various  ways 
iu  which  these  may  be  influenced  by  our 
liiental    states,   it    sulUces   to    mention    the 

*  For  nnmerons  lllastrations  Bee  essay  on  "  The 
Origin  and  Function  of  Mupic." 


254 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


maiked  benefits  derived  by  dyspeptics,  as 
Weil  as  other  invalids,  fiom  cheerful  society, 
welcome  news,  cliange  of  scene,  to  show 
liow  pleasurable  feeling  stimulates  the  vis- 
cera in  general  into  greater  activity. 

Tliere  is  still  another  direction  in  which 
any  excited  portion  of  the  nervous  system 
may  discharge  itself  ;  and  a  direction  in 
which  it  usually  does  discharge  itself  when 
the  excitement  is  not  strong.  It  may  p;iss 
on  the  stimulus  to  some  other  portion  of  the 
nervous  system.  This  is  what  occurs  in 
quiet  thinking  and  feeling.  The  successive 
states  which  constitute  consciousness  result 
from  this.  Sensations  excite  ideas  and  eino 
tious  ;  these  in  their  turns  arouse  other  ideas 
and  emotions  ;  and  so,  continuously.  That 
is  to  say,  the  tension  existing  in  particular 
nerves,  or  groups  of  nerves,  wlien  tiiey  yield 
us  certain  sensations,  ideas  or  emotions,  gen- 
erates an  ctjuivalent  tension  in  some  other 
nerves,  or  groups  of  nerves,  wiMi  wiiich  there 
is  a  connection  :  the  tlow  of  energy  passing 
on,  the  one  idea  or  feeling  dies  in  producing 
the  next. 

Thus,  then,  while  we  are  totally  unable  to 
comprehend  how  the  excitement  of  certain 
nerves  should  genernte  feeling — while  in  tiie 
production  of  consciousness  b}'  physical 
agents  acting  on  physical  structure,  we  come 
to  an  absolute  mystery  never  to  be  solved — 
it  is  yet  quite  possible  for  us  to  know  by  ob- 
servation what  are  the  successive  forms 
which  this  absolute  mysterj"-  may  take.  We 
see  that  there  are  three  channels  along  which 
nerves  in  a  state  of  tension  may  discharge 
themselves  ;  or  rather,  1  should  say,  three 
classes  of  channels.  They  may  pass  on  the 
excitement  to  other  nerves  that  have  no  di- 
rect connections  with  the  budily  members 
and  may  so  cause  other  feelings  and  ideas  ; 
or  they  may  pass  on  the  excitement  to  one 
or  more  motor  nerves,  and  so  cause  muscu 
iar  contractions  ;  or  they  may  pass  on  the 
excitement  to  nerves  which  supply  the  vis- 
cera, and  may  so  stimulate  one  or  more  of 
these. 

For  simplicity's  sake,  I  have  described 
these  as  alternative  routes,  one  or  other  of 
which  any  current  of  uerve-furcc  must  take  ; 
thereby,  as  it  may  be  thought,  impl^'ing 
that  such  current  will  be  exclusively  con- 
fined to  some  one  of  them.  But  this  is  by  no 
means  the  case.  Rarely,  if  ever,  does  it  hap- 
pen that  a  state  of  nervous  tension,  present 
to  consciousness  as  a  feeling,  expends  itself 
in  one  direction  oniy.  Yery  generally  it  maj' 
be  observed  to  expend  itself  in  two  ;  and  it  is 
probable  that  the  discharge  is  never  abso- 
lutely absent  from  any  one  of  the  three. 
There  is,  however,  variety  in  the  proportions 
in  which  the  discharge  is  divided  among 
these  different  channels  under  different  cir- 
cumstances. In  a  man  whose  fear  impels  him 
to  run,  the  mental  tension  generated  is  only 
in  part  transformed  into  a  muscular  stimulus  : 
there  is  a  surplus  which  causes  a  rapid  cur- 
rent of  ideas.  An  agreeable  slate  of  feeling- 
produced,  say  by  praise,  is  not  wholly  used 
up  in  arousing  the  succeeding  phase  of  the 


teeling,  and  the  new  ideas  appropriate  to  it ; 
but  a  certain  portion  overflows  into  the  vis- 
ceral nervous  system,  increasing  the  action 
of  the  heart,  and  probably  facilitating  diges- 
tion. And  here  we  come  upon  a  class  of  con- 
siderations and  facts  which  open  the  way  to 
u  solution  of  our  special  problem. 

For  starting  with  the  unquestionable 
truth,  that  at  any  moment  the  existing  quan- 
tity of  liberated  nerve-force,  which  in  an  in- 
scrutable way  produces  in  us  the  state  we 
call  feeling,  munt  exi)end  itself  in  some  di- 
rection— must  generate  an  equivalent  mani- 
festation of  force  somewhere — it  clearly  fol- 
lows that,  if  of  the  several  channels  it  may 
take,  one  is  wholly  or  partially  closed,  more 
nmst  be  taken  b}'  the  others  ;  or  that  if  two 
are  closed,  the  discharge  along  the  remaining 
one  must  be  more  intense  ;  and  that,  con- 
versely, should  anything  determine  an  un- 
usual cfllux  in  one  direction,  there  will  be  a 
diminished  ettlux  in  other  directions. 

Daily  experience  illustrates  these  conclu- 
Bions.  It  is  commonly  remarked  that  the  sup- 
pression of  external  signs  of  feeling  makes 
feeling  more  intense.  The  deepest  grief  is 
silent  grief.  Why?  Because  the  nervous 
excitement  not  discharged  in  muscular  action 
discharges  itself  in  other  nervous  excitements 
— arouses  more  numerous  and  more  remote 
associations  of  melancholy  ideas,  and  so  in- 
creases the  mass  of  feelings.  People  who 
conceal  their  anger  are  habitually  found  to  be 
more  revengeful  than  those  who  explode  in 
loud  speech  and  vehement  action.  Why  ? 
Because,  as  before,  the  emotion  is  reflected 
back,  accumulates,  and  intensifies.  Simi- 
larly, men  who,  as  proved  by  their  powers  of 
representation,  have  the  keenest  apprecia- 
tion of  the  comic,  are  usually  able  to  do  and 
say  the  most  ludicrous  things  with  perfect 
gravity. 

On  the  other  hand,  all  are  familiar  Trith 
the  trutii  that  bodily  activity  deadens  emo- 
tion. Under  great  irritation  we  get  relief  by 
walking  about  rapidly.  Extreme  effort  in 
the  bootless  attempt  to  achieve  a  desired  end 
greatly  diminishes  the  intensity  of  tlie  desire. 
Those  who  are  forced  to  exert  tbemselvca 
after  misfortunes  do  not  suffer  nearly  so 
much  as  those  who  remain  quiescent.  If 
any  one  wishes  to  check  intellectual  excite- 
ment, he  cannot  choose  a  more  efficient 
method  t  ban  running  till  he  is  exhausted. 
Moreover,  these  cases,  in  which  the  pro- 
duction of  feeling  and  thought  is  hindered 
by  determining  the  nervous  energy  toward 
bodily  movements  have  their  counterparts  in 
the  cases  in  which  bodily  movements  are 
hindered  by  extra  absorption  of  nervous 
energy  in  sudden  thoughts  and  feelings.  If, 
'when  walking  along,  there  flashes  on  you  an 
idea  that  creates  great  surprise,  hope,  or 
alarm,  you  stop  ;  or  if  sitting  cross  legged, 
swinging  your  pendent  foot,  the  movement 
is  at  once  arrested.  From  the  viscera,  too, 
intense  mental  action  abstracts  energy.  Joy, 
disappointment,  anxiety,  or  any  moral  per- 
turbation rising  to  a  great  height  will  destroy 
appetite  ;  or  if  food  has  been  taken,  will  ar- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


235 


rest  dit,'estioa  ;  and  even  a  purely  intellectuiil 
uctivily,  when  extreme,  will  do  the  like. 

Faets,  then,  fully  hear  out  these  a  piiori 
inferences,  that  the  nervous  excitement  at 
any  moment  present  to  consciousness  as 
feeling  must  expend  itself  in  some  way  or 
other  ;  that  of  the  three  classes  of  channels 
open  to  it,  it  must  take  one,  two,  or  moie, 
according  to  circumstances  ;  that  the  closure 
or  ohstruction  of  one  must  increase  the  dis- 
charge through  the  others  ;  and  conversely, 
that  if  to  answer  some  demand,  the  efflux  of 
nervous  energy  in  one  direction  is  unusually 
great,  there  must  l;e  a  corre:.;ponding  de- 
crease of  the  efflux  in  other  diieclious.  Set- 
ting out  from  these  premises,  let  us  now  see 
what  interpretation  is  to  be  put  on  the  phe- 
nomena of  laughter. 

That  laughter  is  a  display  of  muscular  ex- 
citement, and  so  illustrates  the  general  law 
that  feeling  passing  a  certain  pitch  liabitually 
vents  itself  m  bodily  action,  scarcx-Iy  needs 
pointmg  out.  It  perhaps  needs  pointing  out, 
however,  that  strong  feeling  of  almost  any 
kind  produces  this  result.  It  is  not  a  sense 
of  the  ludicrous,  only,  which  does  it  ;  nor 
are  the  various  forms  of  joyous  emotion  the 
sole  uddilioniil  causes.  We  have,  Ijcsides  the 
sardonic  laughter  and  the  hysterical  laughter, 
which  result  from  mental  distress  ;  to  which 
must  be  added  certain  sensations,  us  tickling, 
and,  according  to  Mr.  Bain,  cold,  and  some 
kinils  of  acute  pain. 

Strong  feeling,  mental  or  physical,  being, 
then,  the  general  cau.se  of  laughter,  we  have 
to  note  that  the  niu.scular actions  constituting 
it  are  distinguished  from  m;)st  others  by  this, 
that  they  are  purposeles.s.  In  general,  bodily 
motions  that  are  prompted  by  feelings  are  di- 
rected to  special  ends  ;  as  when  we  try  to  es- 
cape a  danger,  or  struggle  to  secure  a  grati- 
fication. But  the  movements  of  chest  and 
limbs  which  we  make  when  laughing  have 
no  object.  And  now  remaik  that  these 
quasi-convulsive  contractions  of  the  muscles 
Laving  no  object,  but  being  results  of  an  un- 
controlled discharge  of  energy,  we  may  sec 
whence  arise  their  special  characters — how 
it  happens  that  ccitain  clas^-es  of  muscles 
are  affected  first,  and  then  certain  other 
classes.  For  an  overflow  of  nerve  force, 
undirected  by  any  motive,  will  manifestly 
take  first  the  most  habitual  routes  ;  and  if 
these  do  not  sutlice,  will  next  oveiflow  into 
the  less  habitual  ones.  Well,  it  is  through 
the  organs  of  speech  that  feeling  passes  into 
movement  with  the  greatest  frequency.  The 
jaws,  tongue,  and  lips  are  used  not  only  to 
express  strong  irritation  or  gratification  ;  but 
that  very  moderate  flow  of  mental  energy 
which  accompanies  ordinary  conversation, 
finds  its  chief  vent  through  this  channel. 
Hence  it  happens  that  certain  muscles 
round  the  mouth,  small  and  easy  to  move, 
are  the  first  to  contract  under  pleasurable 
emotion.  The  class  of  muscles  which,  next 
after  those  of  articulation,  are  most  con- 
stantly set  in  action  (or  extra  action, wc  should 
say)  by  feelings  of  all  kinds,  are  those  of  res- 
piration.    Uuder  pleasurable  or  painful  sen- 


sations we  breathe  more  rapidly  :  possibly 
as  a  consequence  of  the  increased  demand  for 
oxygenated  blood.  The  sensations  that  accom- 
pany exertion  also  bring  on  hard-brealhing  ; 
which  here  more  evidently  responds  to  the 
physiological  needs.  And  emotions, too, agree- 
able and  disagreeable,  both,  at  first,  excite 
i-espiration  ;  though  the  last  subsequently  de- 
press it.  That  is  to  say,  of  the  bodily  muscles, 
the  re.spiratory  are  more  constantly  implicated 
than  any  others  in  those  various  acts  which  our 
feelings  impel  us  to  ;  and,  hence,  when  there 
occurs  an  undirected  discharge  of  nervous . 
energy  into  the  muscular  system,  it  happens 
that,  it  the  quantity  be  considerable,  it  con- 
vulses not  only  certain  of  the  arliculatory 
and  vocal  muscles,  but  also  those  which  ex- 
pel air  from  the  lungs. 

Should  the  feeling  to  be  expended  be  still 
greater  in  amount — too  great  to  find  vent  in 
these  classes  of  nuiscles  —  another  class 
iomes  into  play.  The  upper  limbs  are  set  in 
lULtlioa.  Children  frequently  clap  their 
hands  in  glee  ;  by  some  adults  the  hands  are 
rubbed  together  ,  and  others,  under  still 
greater  intensity  of  delight,  slap  their  knees 
and  sway  their  bodies  backward  and  for- 
ward. Last  of  all,  when  the  other  channels 
for  the  escape  of  the  surplus  nerve  force 
have  beeu  filled  to  overflowing,  a  yet  further 
and  less-used  group  of  muscles  is  spasmodi- 
cally affected  :  the  head  is  thrown  back  and 
the  spine  bent  inward— there  is  a  slight  degree 
of  what  medical  men  call  opisthotonos. 
Tims,  then,  without  contending  that  the 
jtheuomeua  of  laughter  in  all  their  details 
are  to  be  so  accounted  for,  we  see  that  in 
their  cmeitMe  tiiey  conform  to  these  general 
principles  :  that  feeling  excites  to  muscular 
action  ;  that  wheu  the  muscular  action  isun- 
giiided  by  a  purp.ose,  the  muscles  first 
alluclcd  are  those  which  feeling  most  habit- 
ually stimulates  ;  and  that  as  the  feeling  to 
be  expeu  led  iucrea.ses  in  (piantity,  it  excites 
an  increasing  number  of  nuiscles,  in  a  suc- 
cession determined  by  the  relative  frequency 
with  which  they  respond  to  the  regulated 
dictates  of  feeling. 

There  still,  however,  remains  the  question 
with  which  we  set  out.  The  explanation 
Here  given  applies  only  to  the  laughter  pro- 
duced hy  acute  pleasure  or  pain  :  it  does  not 
apply  to  the  latighter  that  follows  certain  per- 
ceptions of  incongruity.  It  is  an  insufflcient 
explanation  that  in  these  cases  laughter  is  a 
result  of  the  pleasure  wc  take  in  escaping 
from  the  restraint  of  grave  feelings.  That 
this  is  apart  cause  is  true.  Doubtless  very 
often,  as  Mr.  Bain  says,  "it  is  the  coerced 
form  of  seriousness  and  solemnity  without 
the  reality  that  gives  us  that  stiff  position 
from  which  a  contact  with  triviality  or  vul- 
garity relieves  us,  to  our  uproarious  delight." 
And  in  so  far  as  mirth  is  caused  by  the 
gush  of  agreeable  feeling  that  follows  the 
cessation  of  mental  strain,  it  further  illus- 
trates the  generzd  principle  above  set  forth. 
But  no  explanation  is  thus  afforded  of  the 
mirth  which  ensues  when  the  short  silence 
between  the  andante  and  allegro  in  one  of 


256 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSK 


Beethoven's  symphonies,  is  broken  by  a  loud 
Boeeze.  In  this,  und  hosts  of  like  cases,  the 
mental  tension  is  not  coerced  but  spontaneous 
— not  dis;igreoable  but  agreeable  ;  and  the 
coming  impressions  to  which  the  altention  is 
directed  promise  a  gratification  that  few,  if 
any,  desire  to  escape.  Hence,  when  the  un- 
lucky sneeze  occurs,  it  cannot  be  that  the 
laughter  of  the  audience  is  due  simply  to  the 
release  from  an  irksome  attitude  of  mind  : 
some  other  cause  must  be  scjugiit. 

This  Ciiuse  we  shall  arrive  at  by  carrying 
our  analysis  a  step  farther.  "We  have  but  to 
consider  tiie  quantity  of  feeling  that  exists 
under  such  circumstances,  and  then  to  ask 
what  are  the  conditions  that  determine  Iho 
direction  of  its  discharge,  to  at  once  reach 
a  solution.  Take  a  case.  You  are  sitting  in 
a  theatre,  absorbed  in  the  progress  of  an  in- 
teresting drama.  Some  climax  has  been 
reached  which  has  aroused  your  sj^mpathies 
— say,  a  reconciliation  between  the  hero  and 
heroine,  after  long  and  painful  misunder- 
standing. The  feelings  excited  by  this  scene 
are  not  of  a  kind  from  which  you  seek  re- 
lief ;  but  are,  on  the  contrary,  a  grateful  re- 
lief from  the  painful  feelings  with  which  you 
have  witnessed  the  previous  estrangement. 
Moreover,  the  sentiments  these  fictitious  per- 
sonages have  for  the  moment  inspired  you 
with,  are  not  such  as  would  lead  you  to  re- 
joice in  any  indignity  olfered  to  them  ;  but 
rather,  such  as  would  make  you  resent  the 
indignity.  And  now,  while  you  are  contem- 
plating the  reconciliation  with  a  pl.msurable 
sympathy,  there  appears  from  behind  the 
scenes  a  tame  kid,  which,  having  stared 
round  at  the  audience,  walks  up  to  the  lovers 
and  sniffs  at  them.  You  cannot  help  joining 
in  the  roar  which  greets  this  contretemps. 
Inexplicable  as  is  this  irresistible  burst  on 
th(;  hypothesis  of  a  pleasure  in  escaping  from 
mental  restraint,  or  on  the  hypothesis  of  a 
pleasure  from  relative  increase  of  self  impor- 
tance when  witnessing  the  humiliation  of 
others,  it  is  readily  explicable  if  we  consider 
what,  in  such  a  case,  must  become  of  the 
feeling  that  existed  at  the  moment  the  incon- 
gruity arose.  A  large  mass  of  emotion  had 
been  produced  ;  or,  to  speak  in  physiological 
language,  a  large  portion  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem was  in  a  state  of  tension.  There  was 
also  great  expectation  with  respect  to  the 
further  evolution  of  the  scene — a  quantity  of 
vague,  nascent  thought  and  emotion,  into 
which  the  existing  quantity  of  thought  and 
emotion  was  about  to  pass. 

Had  there  been  no  interruption,  the  body 
of  new  ideas  and  feelings  next  excited  would 
have  sufficed  to  absorb  the  whole  of  the  lib- 
erated nervous  energy.  But  now,  this  large 
amount  of  nervous  energy,  instead  of  being 
allowed  to  expend  itself  in  producing  an 
equivalent  amount  of  the  new  thoughts  and 
emotions  which  were  nascent,  is  suddenl}^ 
checked  in  its  flow.  The  charmels  along 
which  the  discharge  was  about  to  take  place 
are  closed.  The  new  channel  opened — that 
afforded  by  the  appearance  and  proceedings 
of  the  kid — is  a  small  one  ;  the  ideas  and 


feeling  suggested  are  not  numerous  and 
massive  enough  to  carry  off  the  nervou.* 
energy  to  be  expended.  The  excess  niu.st 
therefore  discharge  itself  in  some  other  direc- 
tion ;  and  in  the  way  already  explained, 
there  results  an  efflux  through  the  motor 
nerves  to  various  classes  of  the  muscles,  pro- 
ducing the  half-convulsive  actions  we  term 
laughter. 

This  explanation  is  in  harmony  with  the 
fact,  that  vvhen,  among  several  persons  who 
witness  the  .same  ludicrous  occurrence,  there 
arc  some  who  do  mA  laugh  ;  it  is  because 
there  has  arisen  in  them  an  emotion  not  par- 
ticipated in  by  the  rest, and  which  is  sutficient- 
ly  massive  to  absorb  all  the  nascent  excite- 
ment. Among  the  spectators  of  an  awkward 
tumble,  those  who  preserve  their  gravity  are 
those  in  whom  there  is  excited  a  degree  of 
sympathy  with  the  sufferer,  suIVicientiy  great 
to  serve  as  an  outlet  for  the  feeling  which 
the  occurrence  had  turned  out  of  its  previous 
course.  Sometimes  auger  carries  off  the 
arrested  current,  and  so  provenls  laughter. 
An  instance  of  this  was  lately  furnished  me 
by  a  friend  who  had  been  witnessing  the 
feats  at  Franconi's.  A  tremendous  leap  had 
just  been  made  by  an  acrobat  over  a  number 
of  horses.  The  clown,  seemingly  envious  of 
this  success,  made  ostentatious  preparation 
for  doing  the  like  ;  and  then,  taking  the  pre- 
limmary  run  with  immense  energy,  slopped 
short  on  leaching  the  first  horse,  and  pre- 
tended to  wi|)c  some  dust  from  its  haunches. 
In  the  majority  of  the  spectators  merriment 
was  excited  ;  but  in  my  friend,  wound  up  by 
the  expectation  of  the  coming  leap  to  a  state 
of  great  nervous  tension,  the  effect  of  the 
balk  was  to  produce  indignation.  Experi- 
ence thus  proves  what  the  theory  implies — 
namely,  that  the  discharge  of  arrested  feel- 
ings into  the  muscular  system  takes  place 
only  in  the  absence  of  other  adequate  chan- 
nels— does  not  lake  place  if  there  arise  other 
feelings  equal  in  amount  to  those  arrested. 

Evidence  still  more  conclusive  is  at  hand. 
If  we  contrast  the  incongruities  which  pro- 
duce laughter  with  those  which  do  not,  we 
at  once  see  that  in  the  non-ludicrous  ones  the 
unexpecleil  state  of  feeling  aroused,  though 
wholly  different  in  kind,  is  not  less  in  quan- 
tity or  intensity.  Among  incongruities  that 
may  excite  anything  but  a  laugli,  Mr.  Baia 
instances  :  "  A  decrepit  man  under  a  heavy 
burden,  five  loaves  and  two  fishes  among  a 
multitude,  and  all  unfitness  and  gross  dis- 
proportion ;  an  instrument  out  of  tune,  a  fly 
in  ointment,  snow  in  May,  Archimedes 
studying  geometry  in  a  siege,  and  all  discor- 
dant things  ;  a  wolf  in  slieep's  clothing,  a 
breach  of  bargain,  and  falsehood  in  general, 
the  multitude  taking  the  law  in  their  own 
hands,  and  everything  of  the  nature  of  dis- 
order ;  a  corpse  at  a  feast,  parental  cruelty, 
filial  ingratitude,  and  whatever  is  unnatural  ; 
the  entire  catalogue  of  the  vanities  given  by 
Solomon  are  all  incongruous,  but  they  cause 
feelings  of  pain,  anger,  sadness,  loathing,, 
rather  than  mirth."  Now,  in  these  cases,, 
where  the  totally  unlike  state  of  conscious- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


257 


ness  suddenly  produced  is  not  Inferior  in 
mass  to  the  preceding  one,  the  conditions  to 
laughter  are  not  fulfilled.  As  above  shown, 
laughter  naturally  results  only  when  con- 
sciousness is  unawares  transferred  from  great 
things  to  small — onl}'  when  there  is  what  we 
call  a  descending  incongruity. 

And  now  observe,  finally,  the  fact,  alike 
inferable  d  fiiori  and  illustrated  in  expeii 
ence,  that  an  axcending  incongruity  not  only 
fails  to  cause  laughter,  but  woiks  on  the 
muscular  system  an  effect  of  exactly  the  re- 
verse kind.  "When  after  sonictliing  very  in- 
significant there  arises  without  anticipation 
something  very  grtat,  the  emotion  we  call 
wonder  results  ;  and  this  emotion  is  accom- 
panied not  by  an  excitement  of  the  muscles, 
but  by  a  relaxation  of  thtm.  In  children 
and  country  people,  that  falling  of  the  jaw 
which  occurs  on  witnessing  sometliing  that 
is  imposing  and  unexpected,  exemplifies  this 
effect.  Persons  who  have  been  wonder- 
struck  at  the  production  of  very  striking  re- 
sults by  a  seemingly  inadequate  cause,  are 
frequently  described  as  unconsciously  drop- 
ping the  things  they  held  in  their  hands. 
Such  are  just  the  effects  to  be  anticipated. 
After  an  average  state  of  consciousness, 
absorbing  but  a  small  quantity  of  nervous 
energy,  is  aroused  without  the  slightest 
notice,  a  strong  emotion  of  awe,  terror,  or 
admiration  ;  j()ined  with  the  astonishment 
due  to  )in  a[)parcnt  want  of  adequate  caus- 
ation. Tliis  new  state  of  consciousness  de- 
m:ui(ls  far  more  nervous  energy  than  that 
which  it  has  suddenly  replaced  ;  and  this  in- 
creased absorption  of  nervous  energy  in 
mental  changes  involves  a  temporary  dimi- 
nution of  the  outflow  in  other  directions  : 
whence  the  pendent  jaw  and  the  relaxing 
grasp. 

One  further  observation  is  worth  making. 
Among  the  several  sets  of  channels  into 
which  surplus  feeling  might  be  discharged, 
was  named  the  nervous  system  of  the  viscera. 
The  sudden  overllow  of  an  arrested  mental 
excitement  which,  as  we  have  seen,  results 
from  a  descending  incongruity,  must  doubt- 
less stimulate  not  only  the  muscular  system, 
as  we  see  it  does,  but  also  the  internal 
organs  ;  the  heart  and  stomach  must  come 
in  for  a  share  of  the  discharge.  And  thus 
there  seems  to  be  a  good  physiological  basis 
for  the  popular  notion  that  mirlh-cieating 
excitement  facilitates  digestion. 

Though  in  doing  so  I  go  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  the  immediate  topic,  I  may 
fitly  point  cut  that  the  method  of  inquiry 
here  followed  is  one  which  enables  us  to 
understand  various  phenomena  besides  those 
of  laughter.  To  show  the  importance  of  pur- 
suing it,  1  will  indicate  the  explanation  it 
furnishes  of  another  familiar  class  of  facts. 

All  know  how  generally  a  large  amount  of 
emotion  disturbs  the  action  of  the  intellect, 
and  interferes  with  the  power  of  expression. 
A  speech  delivered  with  great  facility  to 
tables  and  chairs  is  by  no  means  so  easily 
delivered  to  an  audience.  Every  schoolboy 
can  testify  that  his  trepidation,  when  stand- 


ing before  a  master,  has  often  disabled  him 
from  repeating  a  lesson  which  he  had  duly 
learned.  In  explanation  of  this  we  com- 
monly say  that  the  attention  is  distracted — 
that  the  proper  train  of  ideas  is  broken  by 
the  intrusion  of  ideas  that  are  irrelevant. 
But  the  question  is,  in  what  manner  does 
unusual  emotion  produce  this  effect  ;  and  we 
are  here  supplied  with  a  tolerably  obvious 
answer.  The  repetition  of  a  lesson,  or  set 
speech  previously  thought  out,  implies  the 
flow  of  a  very  moderate  amount  of  nervous 
sxcitement  through  a  comparative!}''  narrow 
ohannel.  The  thing  to  be  done  is  simply  to 
call  up  in  succession  certain  jireviously- 
arranged  ideas — a  process  in  which  no  great 
amount  of  mental  energy  is  expended. 
Hence,  when  there  is  a  largo  quantity  of 
emotion,  which  must  be  discharged  in  some 
direction  or  other  ;  and  when,  as  usually 
happens,  the  restricted  series  of  intellectual 
actions  to  begone  through  does  not  sullice  to 
carry  it  off.  there  result  discharges  along 
other  channels  besides  the  one  prescribed  : 
there  are  aroused  various  ideas  foreign  to  the 
train  of  thought  to  be  pursued  ;  and  these 
tend  to  exclude  from  consciousness  those 
which  should  occupy'  it. 

And  now  observe  the  meaning  of  those 
bodily  actions  spontaneously  set  up  under 
these  circumstances.  The  schoolboy  saying 
his  lesson,  conunonly  has  his  fingers  actively 
engaged — perhaps  in  twisting  about  a  broken 
pen,  or  perhaps  squeezing  the  angle  of  his 
jacket ;  and  if  told  to  keep  his  hands  still  he 
soon  again  falls  into  the  same  or  a  similar 
trick.  Many  anecdotes  are  current  of  public 
speakers  having  incurable  automatic  actions 
of  this  cla.ss :  barristers  who  perpetually 
wound  and  unwound  pieces  of  tape  ;  mem- 
bers of  parliament  ever  putting  on  and  tak- 
ing off  their  spectacles.  So  long  as  such 
movements  are  unconscious,  they  facilitate 
the  mental  actions.  At  least  this  seems  a 
fair  inference  from  the  fact  that  confusion 
frequently  results  from  putting  a  stop  to 
them :  witness  the  case  narrated  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott  of  his  schoolfellow,  who  became 
unable  to  say  his  lesson  after  the  removal  of 
the  waistcoat-button  that  he  habitually  fin- 
gered while  in  class.  But  why  do  they  facili- 
tate the  mental  actions  ?  Clearly  because 
they  draw  off  t*  portion  of  the  surplus  ner- 
vous excitement.  If,  as  above  explained,  the 
quantity  of  mental  energy  generated  is 
greater  than  can  find  vent  along  the  narrow 
channel  of  thought  that  is  open  to  it  ;  and 
if,  in  consequence,  it  is  apt  to  produce  con- 
fusion by  rushing  into  other  channels  of 
thought  ;  then  by  allowing  it  an  exit  through, 
the  motor  nerves  into  the  muscular  system 
the  pressure  is  diminished,  and  irrelevant 
ideas  are  less  likely  to  intrude  on  conscious- 
ness. 

This  further  illustration  will,  1  think, 
justify  the  position  that  something  may  be 
achieved  by  pursuing  in  other  cases  this 
method  of  psy<;holog.ical  inquiry.  A  com- 
plete explanation  of  the  phenomena  requires 
us  to  trace  out  all  the  consequences  of  any 


258 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


given  state  of  consciousness  ;  and  we  cannot 
do  this  without  studying  the  elTects,  bodily 
and  mental,  as  varying  in  quantity  at  each 
other'  expense.  We  should  probably  learn 
much  if  we  in  every  case  asked,  Where  is 
all  the  nervous  energy  gone  ? 

111. 

THE  ORIOrX  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MUSIC. 

When  Carlo,  standing  chained  to  his 
kennel,  sees  his  master  in  the  distance,  a 
slight  motion  of  the  tail  indicates  his  but 
feint  hope  that  he  is  about  to  be  let  out.  A 
much  more  decided  wagging  of  the  tail, 
passing  by  and  by  into  lateral  undulations  of 
the  body,  follows  his  master's  nearer  ap- 
proach. When  hands  are  laid  on  his  collar, 
and  he  knows  that  he  is  really  to  have  an 
outing,  his  jumping  and  wriggling  are  such 
that  it  is  by  uo  moans  easy  lu  loose  his  fast- 
enings. And  when  he  finds  himself  actually 
free,  his  joy  expends  itself  in  bounds,  in 
pirouettes,  and  in  scourings  hither  and  thither 
iit  the  top  of  his  spued.  Puss,  too,  by  erect- 
ing her  tail,  and  by  every  time  raising  her 
back  to  meet  the  caressing  hand  of  her  mis- 
tress, similarly  expresses  her  gratification  by 
certain  muscular  actions  ;  as  likewise  do  the 
parrot  by  awkward  dancing  on  Ids  perch, 
and  the  canary  by  hopping  and  lluttering 
about  his  cage  with  unwonted  rapidity. 
Under  emotions  of  an  opposite  kind,  animals 
equally  display  muscular  excitement.  The 
enraged  lion  lashes  his  sides  with  his  tail, 
knils  his  brows,  i)rotiudes  iiis  claws.  Tlio 
cat  sets  up  her  back  ;  the  d(jg  retracts  his 
upper  lip  ;  the  horse  throws  back  his  cars. 
And  in  the  struggles  of  creatures  in  pain,  we 
see  that  the  like  relation  lioKls  between  ex- 
citement of  the  muscles  and  excitement  of 
the  nerves  of  sensation. 

In  ourselves,  distinguished  from  lower 
creatures  as  we  are  by  feelings  alike  more 
powerful  and  more  varied,  parallel  facts  are  at 
once  mure  conspicuous  and  more  numerous. 
We  may  conveniently  look  at  them  in  groups. 
We  shall  find  that  pleasurable  sensations  and 
painful  sensations,  pleasurable  emotions  and 
painful  emotions,  all  tend  to  produce  active 
demonstrations  in  proportion  to  their  inten- 
sity. 

In  children,  and  even  in  adults  who  arc 
not  restrained  by  regard  for  appearances,  a 
highly  agreeable  t'usle  is  followed  by  a 
smacking  of  the  lips.  An  infant  will  laugh 
and  bound  in  its  nurse's  arms  at  the  sight^f 
a  brilliant  color  or  the  hearing  of  a  new 
sound.  People  are  apt  to  beat  time  with 
Lead  or  feet  to  music  which  particularly 
pleases  them.  In  a  sensitive  person  an  agree- 
able perfume  will  produce  a  smile  ;  and 
,  smiles  will  be  seen  on  the  faces  of  a  crowd 
f  gazing  at  some  splendid  burst  of  fireworks. 
Even  the  pleasant  Eeusaliou  of  warmth  felt 
on  getting  to  the  fireside  out  of  a  winter's 
storm,  will  similarly  express  itself  in  the 
face. 

Painful  sensations,  being  mostly  far  more 
intense  than  pleasurable  ones,  cause  muscu- 


lar actions  of  a  much  more  decided  kind.  A 
sudden  twinge  produces  a  convulsive  .start  of 
the  whole  body.  A  pain  less  violent,  but 
continuous,  is  accompanied  by  a  knitting  of 
the  brows,  a  setting  of  the  teeth  or  biting  of 
the  lip  and  a  contraction  of  the  features  gen- 
erally. Under  a  persistent  pain  of  a  .severer 
kind,  other  muscular  actions  are  adde<l  :  tho 
body  is  swayed  to  and  fro  ;  the  hands  clinch 
anything  the}'  can  lay  hold  of  ;  and  should 
the  agony  rise  still  higher  the  sufferer  rolls 
about  on  the  lloor  almost  convulsed. 

Though  more  varied,  the  natural  lanpiage 
of  the  ple!usu:able  emotions  comes  wilhin  the 
same  generalization.  A  smile,  which  is  the 
commonest  expression  of  gratified  feeling,  is 
a  contraction  of  certain  facial  muscles  ;  and 
when  the  snule  broadens  into  a  laugh,  we  see 
a  more  violent  and  more  general  muscular 
excitement  produced  by  an  intenser  gratifi- 
cation. Itubbing  together  of  the  liands,  and 
that  other  motion  which  Dickens  somewhere 
describes  as  "  washing  with  impalpftl)Ic  eoap 
in  invisiljle  water,"  liave  like  implications. 
Chililreu  may  often  be  seen  to  "jump  for 
joy."  Even  in  adults  of  excitable  temper- 
ament, an  action  approaching  to  it  is  some- 
times witnes.sed.  And  dancing  has  all  the 
world  through  been  regarded  as  natural  to 
an  elevated  stale  of  mind.  JIany  of  tlie 
special  emotions  show  themselves  in  special 
muscular  actions.  Tho  gratification  result- 
ing from  success  raises  the  head  and  gives 
firmness  to  the  gait.  A  hearty  grasp  of  the 
hand  is  currently  taken  as  indicative  of 
friendship.  Under  a  gush  of  affection  the 
mother  clasps  her  child  to  her  breast,  feeling 
as  though  she  could  squeeze  it  to  death.  And 
so  in  sundry  other  cases.  Even  in  that 
brightening  of  the  eye  with  which  good  news 
is  received  we  may  trace  the  same  truth  ;  for 
this  appearance  of  greater  brilliancy  is  due  to 
an  extra  contraction  of  the  muscle  which 
raises  the  eyelid,  and  so  allows  more  light  to 
fall  upon  and  be  reflected  from  the  wet  sur- 
face of  the  eyeball. 

The  bodily  indications  of  painful  emotions 
are  equally  numerous,  and  still  more  vehe- 
ment. Discontent  is  shown  by  raised  eye- 
brows and  wrinkled  forehead  ;  disgust  by  a 
curl  of  the  lip  ;  oilence  by  a  pout.  The  im- 
patient man  beats  a  tattoo  with  his  fingers 
on  the  table,  swings  his  pendent  leg  with  in- 
creasing rapidity,  gives  needless  pokings  to 
the  fire,  and  presently  paces  with  hasty  strides 
about  the  room.  In  great  grief  there  is 
wringing  of  the  hands,  and  even  tearing  of 
the  hair.  An  angry  child  stamps,  or  rolls 
on  its  back  and  kicks  its  heels  in  the  air  ;  and 
in  manhood,  anger,  first  showing  itself  in 
frowns,  in  distended  nostrils,  in  compressed 
lips,  goes  on  to  produce  grinding  of  the  teeth, 
clinching  of  the  fingers,  blows  of  the  fist  on 
the  table,  and  perhaps  ends  in  a  violent  at- 
tack on  the  offending  person,  or  in  throwing 
about  and  breaking  the  furniture.  From 
that  pursing  of  the  mouth  indicative  of 
slight  displeasure,  up  to  the  frantic  stiuggles 
of  the  maniac,  we  shall  find  that  menial  irri- 
tation tends  to  vent  itself  in  bodily  activity. 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


369 


All  feelings,  llun — sensations  or  emotions, 
i;leasurable  or  painful — have  this  common 
•characteristic,  tliat  they  arc  nuiscular  stimuli. 
Not  forgetting  the  few  apparently  exoep- 
ti^^nnl  cases  in  which  emotions  exceeding  a 
certain  intensity  produce  prostration,  we  may 
set  it  down  as  a  general  law  that,  alike  in 
man  and  animals,  there  is  a  direct  connec- 
tion between  feeling  and  motion,  the  last 
growing  more  vehement  as  the  first  grows 
more  intense.  Were  it  allow  able  here  to  treat 
the  matter  scientifically,  we  might  trace  this 
general  law  down  to  tiie  principle  known 
among  physiologists  as  tliat  of  irjlej;  action* 
Without  doing  this,  however,  tlie  above  nu- 
merous instances  justify  the  gcneralizjttion, 
that  mental  excitement  of  all  kinds  ends  in 
excitement  of  the  muscles  ;  and  that  the  two 
preserve  a  more  or  less  constant  ratio  to  each 
other. 

"  But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  '  The 
Origin  and  Function  of  !Music? '  "  abks  the 
reader.  Very  mutii,  as  we  sliall  presently 
see.  All  music  is  originally  votal.  All  vocal 
sounds  are  produced  by  {lis  agency  of  cer- 
tain muscles.  These  muscles,  in  ccnimon 
Hvith  those  of  the  body  at  large,  are  excited 
to  contraction  by  pleasurable  and  painful  feel- 
ings. And  therefore  it  is  that  feelings  dem- 
onstrate themselves  in  sounds  as  well  as  in 
movements.  Therefore  it  is  that  Carlo  barks 
as  well  as  leaps  when  he  is  let  out  ;  that 
puss  purrs  as  well  as  erects  her  tail  ;  that 
the  canary  chirps  as  well  as  llutlers.  There- 
fore it  is  that  the  angry  lion  roars  while  he 
lashes  his  sides,  and  the  dog  growls  whde  he 
retracts  his  lip.  Therefore  it  is  that  the 
maimed  animal  not  only  struggles  but  howls. 
And  it  is  from  this  cause  thai  in  human 
beings  bodily  suffering  expresses  itself  net 
only  in  contortions,  but  in  shrieks  and  groans 
— that  in  anger,  and  fear,  and  grief  the  ges- 
ticulations arc  Mcompanied  by  shouts  and 
screams— that  delightful  sensations  are  fol- 
lowed by  exclamations — and  that  we  Lear 
screams  of  J03'  and  shouts  of  exiijlatiou. 

We  have  here,  then,  a  princij)le  underlying 
all  vocal  phenomena  ;  including  those  of 
vocal  music,  and  by  consequence  those  of 
p^usic  in  general.  The  muscles  that  move 
Ihe  chest,  larynx,  and  vocal  chords,  contract- 
ing like  other  muscles  in  pioportion  to  the 
intensity  of  the  feelings  ;  every  different 
contraction  of  these  muscles  involving,  as  it 
does,  a  different  adjui-tment  of  the  vocal  or- 
igans ;  every  different  adjustment  of  the  vo- 
cal organs  causing  a  change  in  the  sound 
emitted  ;  it  follows  that  variations  of  voice 
are  the  physiological  results  of  variations  of 
feeling  ;  it  follows  that  each  inflection  or 
modulixtion  is  the  natural  outcome  of  some 
passing  emotion  or  sensation  ;  and  it  follows 
that  the  explanation  of  all  kinds  of  vocal  ex- 
pression must  be  sought  in  this  general  re- 
lation between  mental  and  muscular  excite- 
ments.  Let  us,  then,  see  whether  we  cannot 

•  Ttose  who  seek  information  on  this  point  may  find 
It  in  an  initro.-tiiij;  trad  l)v  Mr.  Ale.\auder  liain,  on 
"Animal  Instinct  and  Intelligence." 


thus  account  for  the  chief  peculiarities 
in  the  utterance  of  the  feelings  ;  grouping 
these  peculiarities  under  the  beads  of  loud- 
lU'M,  quality,  or  timhi-e,  piic?i,  intervals,  and 
rat^i  of  variation. 

Between  the  lungs  and  the  organs  of  voice 
there  is  much  the  same  relation  as  between 
the  bellows  of  an  oriran  and  its  pipes.  And 
as  the  loudness  of  the  sound  given  out  bj'  an 
organ-i)ipe  increases  with  the  strength  of  the 
blast  from  the  bellows  ;  so,  otlier  things 
equal,  the  loudness  of  a  vocal  sound  increases 
with  the  strength  of  the  blast  from  tlie  lungs. 
But  the  expulsion  of  air  from  the  lungs  is 
effected  by  certain  muscles  of  the  chest  and 
abdomen.  The  force  with  which  these  mus- 
cles contract  is  proportionate  to  the  intensity 
of  the  feeling  experienced.  Hence,  a  priori, 
loud  sounds  will  be  the  habitual  results  of 
strong  feelings.  That  they  are  so  we  have 
daily  ])roof.  Tlie  pain  which,  if  moderate, 
can  be  borne  silently,  causes  outcries  if  it 
becoinas  extreme.  While  a  sligiit  vexation 
makes  a  child  whimper,  a  lit  of  pas.sion  calls 
forth  a  howl  that  disturl)s  tlie  neighborhood. 
When  the  voices  in  an  adjacent  room  become 
unusually  audible,  we  infer  anger,  or  sur- 
prise, or  joy.  Loudness  of  applause  is  sig- 
nificant of  great  approbation  ;  and  with  up- 
roarious mirth  we  associate  the  idea  of  high 
enjoyment.  Commencing  with  the  silence  of 
apathy,  we  find  that  tiie  utterances  grow 
louder  as  the  sensations  or  emotions,  whether 
pleasurable  or  painful,  gn»w  stronger. 

That  different  7«(/W/<.y  of  voice  accompany 
different  mental  stat(;s,  and  that  under  states 
of  excitement  the  tones  are  more  sonorous 
than  usual,  is  another  general  fact  admitting 
of  a  parallel  explanation.  The  sounds  of  com- 
mon conversation  have  but  little  resonance  ; 
those  of  strong  feeling  have  much  more. 
Under  rising  ill  temper  the  voice  acquires  a 
metallic  ring.  In  accordance  with  her  con- 
slant  mood,  the  ordinary  speech  of  a  virago 
has  a  piercing  (iiiulily  quite  opposite  to  that 
softness  indiculive  of  placidity.  A  ringing 
laugh  marks  an  especially  joyous  tempera- 
ment. (Jrief  unburdening  itself  uses  tones 
approaching  in  tinibre  to  those  of  chanting  : 
and  in  his  most  pathetic  passages  an  eloquent 
speaker  similaily  falls  into  tones  more  vibra- 
tory than  those  common  to  him.  Now  any 
one  may  readily  convince  himself  that  reso- 
nant vocal  sounds  can  be  produced  only  by  a 
certain  muscular  effort  additional  to  that  or- 
dinarily needed.  If  after  uttering  a  word  in 
his  speaking  voice,  the  reader,  without 
changing  the  pitch  or  the  loudness,  will  sing 
this  word,  he  will  perceive  that  before  he  can 
sing  it,  he  has  to  alter  the  adjustment  of  the 
vocal  organs  ;  to  do  which  a  certain  force 
must  be  used  ;  and  by  putting  his  fingers  on 
that  external  prominence  marking  the  top  of 
the  larynx,  he  will  have  further  evidence 
that  to  produce  a  sonorous  tone  the  organs 
must  be  drawn  out  of  their  usual  position. 
Thus,  then,  the  fact  that  the  tones  of  excited 
feeling  are  more  vibratory  than  those  of  com- 
mon conversation,  is  another  instance  of  the 
ccauectica  between  mental  excitement  and 


860 


PROGRESS:   ITS  L.VW   AND   CAUSE. 


muscular  excitement.  The  speaking  voice, 
the  recitative  voice,  and  the  singing  voice, 
severally  exemplify  one  general  principle. 

That  the  pitch  of  the  voice  varies  according 
to  the  action  of  tlie  vocal  muscles,  scarcely 
needs  saying.  All  know  that  the  middle 
notes,  in  which  they  converse,  are  made  with- 
out any  a[)prctiablc  etlort  ;  and  all  know  that 
to  make  either  very  liigh  or  very  low  notes 
requires  a  considerable  effort.  In  either  as- 
cending (^r  descending  .'rom  the  pitch  of  or- 
dinary speech,  we  are  conscious  of  an  in- 
creasing nmscular  strain,  which,  at  both  ex- 
tremes of  the  register,  becomes  positively 
painful.  Hence  it  follows  from  our  general 
principle,  that  while  indifference  or  calmness 
will  use  the  medium  tones,  the  tones  used 
during  excitement  will  be  either  above  or  be- 
low liicm  ;  and  will  rise  higher  and  higher, 
or  fall  lower  and  lower,  as  the  feelings  grow 
stronger.  This  physiological  deduction  we 
also  find  to  be  in  harmony  with  familiar  facts. 
The  habitual  sufferer  utters  his  complaints 
in  a  voice  raised  considerably  above  the 
natural  key  ;  and  agonizing  pain  vents  itself 
in  either  shrieks  of  groans — in  very  high  or 
very  low  notes.  Beginning  at  his  talking 
pitch,  the  cry  of  ihe  disappointed  urchin 
grows  more  shrill  as  it  ijrows  louder.  The 
"oil  !"  of  astonishment  or  delight  begins 
several  notes  below  the  middle  voice,  and 
descends  still  lower.  Anger  expresses  itself 
in  high  tones,  or  else  in  "curses  not  loud 
but  deep."  Deep  tones,  too,  are  always  u.sed 
in  uttering  strong  reproaches.  Such  an  ex- 
clamation as  "  Beware  1"  if  made  dramati- 
cally— that  is,  if  made  with  a  show  of  feeling 
— must  be  many  notes  lower  than  ordinary. 
Further,  we  have  groans  of  disapprobation, 
groans  of  horror,  groans  of  remorse.  And 
extreme  joy  and  fear  arc  alike  accompanied 
by  shrill  outcries. 

Nearly  allied  to  the  subject  of  pitch  is  that 
of  intervals;  and  the  explanation  of  them 
carries  our  argument  a  step  farther.  While 
calm  speech  is  comparatively  monotonous, 
emotion  makes  use  of  fifths,  octaves,  and 
even  wider  intervals.  Listen  to  any  one  nar- 
rating or  repeating  something  in  which  he 
has  no  interest,  and  his  voice  will  not  wan- 
der more  than  two  or  three  notes  above  or 
below  his  medium  note,  and  that  by  small 
steps  ;  but  when  he  comes  to  some  exciting 
event  he  will  be  heard  not  only  to  use  the 
higher  and  lower  notes  of  his  register,  but  to 
go  from  one  to  the  other  by  larger  leaps. 
Being  unable  in  print  to  imitate  these  traits 
of  feeling,  we  feel  some  difficulty  in  fully 
realizing  them  to  the  reader.  But  we  may 
suggest  a  few  remembrances  which  will  per- 
haps call  to  mind  a  sufficiency  of  others.  If 
two  men  living  in  the  same  place,  and  fre- 
quently seeing  one  another,  meet,  say  at  a 
public  assembly,  any  phrase  with  which  one 
may  be  heard  to  accost  the  other — as  "  Hallo, 
are  you  here  ?" — will  have  an  ordinary  into- 
nation. But  if  one  of  them,  after  long  ab- 
sence, has  unexpectedly  returned,  the  expres- 
sion of  surprise  with  which  his  friend  may 
greet  him — "  Hallo  1  how  came  you  here  ?" 


— will  be  uttered  in  much  more  strongly  con- 
trasted tones.  The  two  syllables  of  the  word 
"  hallo"  will  be  the  one  much  liigher  and 
the  other  much  lower  than  before  ;  and  llie 
rest  of  the  sentence  will  similarly  ascend  and 
descend  by  longer  steps. 

Again,  if,  supposing  her  to  be  in  an  ad- 
joining room,  the  mistress  of  the  house  calls 
"  Alary,"  the  two  syllal)Ies  of  the  name  will 
be  spoken  in  an  ascending  interval  of  a  third. 
If  jklary  does  not  reply,  Ihe  call  will  be  re- 
peated probably  in  a  descending  fifth  ;  im- 
plying the  slightest  shade  of  annoyam-e  at 
Mary's  inattention.  Should  Mary  still  make 
no  answer,  the  increasing  annoyance  will 
show  itself  by  the  use  of  a  descendiu'^  oc- 
tave on  the  next  repetition  of  the  call.  And 
supp  jsing  the  silence  to  continue,  the  lady, 
if  not  of  a  very  even  temper,  will  show  her 
irritation  at  Mary's  seemingly  intentionid 
negligence  by  finally  calling  her  in  tones  still 
more  widely  contrasted — the  first  syllable 
being  higher  and  the  last  lower  than  be- 
fore. 

Now  these  and  analogous  facts,  which  the 
rciwler  will  readily  accumulate,  clearly  con-  i 
form  to  the  law  laid  down.  For  to  make  1 
large  intervals  recjuiresmore  muscular  action  i 
than  to  make  small  ones.  But  not  only  is  the  ^ 
extent  of  vocal  intervals  thus  explicable  as  due 
to  the  relation  between  nervous  and  mus- 
cular excitement,  but  also  in  some  degree 
their  direction,  as  ascending  or  descending. 
The  middle  notes  being  lho.se  which  demand 
no  appreciable  effort  of  muscular  adjust- 
ment, and  the  effort  becoming  greater  as 
we  either  ascend  or  descend,  it  follows  that 
a  departure  from  the  middle  notes  in  either 
direction  will  mark  increasing  emotion  ; 
while  a  return  toward  the  middle  notes  will 
mark  decreasing  emotion.  Hence  it  happens 
that  an  enthusiastic  person  uttering  such  a 
sentence  a.s  "  It  was  the  most  splendid  sight 
I  ever  saw  !"  will  ascend  to  the  first  syllable 
of  the  word  "  splendid"  marking  the  climax 
on  the  feeling  produced  by  the  recollection. 
Hence,  again,  it  happens  that,  under  some 
extreme  vexation  produced  by  another's  stu- 
pidity, an  irascible  man,  exclaiming,  "  What 
a  confounded  fool  the  fellow  is  !"  will  begin 
somewhat  below  his  middle  voice,  and  d<  - 
scending  to  the  word  "  fool,"  which  he  will 
utter  in  one  of  his  deepest  notes,  will  then 
ascend  again.  And  it  may  be  remarked,  that 
the  word  "  fool"  will  not  only  be  deeper 
and  louder  than  the  rest,  but  will  also  have 
more  emphasis  of  articulation — another  mode 
in  which  muscular  excitement  is  shown. 

There  is  some  danger,  however,  in  giving 
instances  like  this  ;  seeing  that  as  the  mode 
of  rendering  will  vary  according  to  the  in- 
tensity of  the  feeling  which  the  reader  feigns 
to  himself,  the  right  cadence  may  not  be  hit 
upon.  With  single  words  there  is  less  diffi- 
culty. Thus  the  "  Indeed  !"  with  which  a 
surprising  fact  is  received,  mostly  begins  on 
the  middle  note  of  the  voice,  and  rises  with 
the  second  syllable  ;  or,  if  disaijprobation  as 
well  as  astonishment  is  felt,  the  first  syllable 
will  be  below    the    middle  note,   and  the 


PIIOGRESS:   ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


261 


second  lower  still.  Conversely,  the  •word 
"  Alas  !"  wliich  marks  not  the  rise  of  a  juir- 
oxysiu  of  grief,  but  its  decline,  is  ullcred  in 
a  cadence  descending  toward  the  middle 
note  ;  or,  if  the  lirst  syllable  is  in  the  lower 
part  of  tlie  rci::ister,  the  second  ascends  tow- 
ard the  middle  note.  In  the  "  Ileigh-ho  !" 
expressive  of  mental  and  muscular  prostra- 
tion, we  may  see  the  same  truth  ;  and  if  tlie 
cadence  appropriate  to  it  be  inverted,  the  al)- 
surditj'  of  the  effect  clearly  shows  liow  the 
meanin^il  of  intervals  is  dependent  on  the  prin- 
ciple we  have  been  illustratini^. 

The  remaining  cliaracteristic  of  emotional 
speech  which  we  have  to  notice  is  that  of 
tariability  of  pitch.  It  is  scarcely  possible 
liere  to  convey  adequate  ideas  of  this  more 
complex  manifestation.  AVe  must  be  content 
with  simply  indicating  some  occasions  on 
which  it  may  be  observed.  On  a  meeting  of 
friends,  for  instance — as  when  there  arrives 
a  party  of  mu(;h-wished-for  visitors — the 
voices  of  all  will  be  heard  to  undergo 
changes  of  pitdi  not  only  greater  but  much 
more  numerous  than  usual.  If  a  speaker  at 
a  public  meeting  is  interrupted  by  some 
squabble  among  tliose  he  is  adilrestring,  liis 
comparative!}'  level  tones  will  l)e  in  marked 
contrast  with  the  ra|)idly  changing  one  of 
the  disputants.  And  among  children,  whose 
leeliugs  are  less  under  control  than  tho.se  of 
adults,  this  peculiarity  is  still  more  decided. 
During  a  scene  of  complaint  and  recrimini- 
tion  between  two  excitable  little  girls,  tiie 
voices  may  be  heanl  to  run  up  and  down  the 
gamut  several  times  in  each  sentence.  In 
such  cases  we  once  more  recognize  the  same 
law  :  for  muscular  excitement  is  shown  not 
only  in  strength  of  contraction  but  also  in  the 
rapidity  with  which  diiferent  muscular  ad- 
justments suc-ceed  each  other. 

Thus  We  find  all  the  leading  vocal  phenom- 
ena to  have  a  physiological  basis.  They 
are  so  man}' manifestations  of  the  general  law 
that  feeling  is  a  stimulus  to  muscular  action 
— a  law  conformed  to  throughout  the  whole 
economy,  not  of  a  man  only,  but  of  eveiy 
sensitive  creature — a  law,  tlierefore,  which 
lies  deep  in  the  nature  of  animal  organiza- 
tion. The  expressiveness  of  these  various 
modifications  of  voice  is  therefore  innate. 
Each  of  us,  from  babyhood  upward,  Las  been 
spontaneously  making  them,  when  under  the 
various  sensations  and  emotions  by  which 
they  are  produced.  Having  been  conscious 
of  each  feelmg  at  thesanic  time  that  we  heard 
ourselves  make  the  couse(|ueut  sound,  we 
have  acquired  an  established  association  of 
ideas  between  such  sound  and  the  feeling 
which  caused  it.  "When  the  like  sound  is 
made  by  another,  we  ascribe  the  like  feeling 
to  him  ;  and  by  a  further  consequence  we 
not  only  as^cribe  to  him  thatfeelin}:,  but  have 
a  certain  degree  of  it  aroused  in  ourselves  : 
for  to  become  conscious  of  the  feeling  which 
another  is  experiencing,  is  to  have  that  feel- 
ing awakened  in  our  own  consciousness, 
which  is  the  same  thing  as  experiencing  the 
feeling.  Thus  these  various  modifications 
of  voice  become  not  only  a  language  through 
which     we     understand     the    emotions    of 


others,  but  also  the  means  of  exciting  our 
sympathy  with  such  emotions. 

Have  we  not  here,  then,  adequate  data  for 
a  theory  of  music  ?  These  vocal  peculiari- 
ties which  indicate  excited  feeliug,  are  those 
which  especially  distinyuifih  song  from  ordi- 
nari/  speech.  Every  one  of  the  alterations  of 
voice  which  we  have  found  to  be  a  physio- 
logical result  of  pain  or  pleasure,  is  carried  to 
its  greatest  extreme  in  vocal  musir.  For  in- 
stance, we  saw  that,  in  virtue  cf  the  general 
relation  between  mental  and  nuisciilar  excite- 
ment, one  characteristic  of  passionate  utter- 
ance is  loudiics.t.  Well,  its  comparative  loud- 
ness is  one  of  the  distinctive  marks  of  song  as 
contrasted  with  the  speech  of  daily  life  ;  and 
further,  the  forte  passages  of  an  air  are  those 
intended  to  represent  the  climax  of  its  emo- 
tion. We  next  saw  t  hat  the  tones  in  which  emo- 
tion  expresses  itself,  are,  in  conformity  wilh 
tliis  same  law,  of  a  more  sonorous  timbre  than 
those  of  calm  conversation.  Here,  too,  song 
displays  a  still  higher  degree  of  the  pecu- 
liarity ;  for  the  singing  tone  is  the  most  reso- 
nant we  can  make.  Again,  it  was  shown 
that,  from  a  like  cause,  mental  excitement 
vents  itself  in  the  higher  and  lower  notes  of  the 
register,  using  the  middle  notes  but  seldom. 
And  it  scarcely  needs  saying  that  vocal 
inu>.ic  is  still  more  distinguished  by  its  com- 
parative neglect  of  the  notes  in  which  we 
talk,  and  its  habitual  use  of  those  above  or 
below  them  ;  and,  moreover,  that  its  most  pas- 
sionate effects  are  comraonlj' produced  at  the 
two  extremities  of  its  scale,  but  especially 
the  upper  one. 

A  yet  further  trait  of  strong  feeling,  simi- 
larly accouutKl  f  »r,  was  the  employment  of 
larger  intervals  than  are  employed  in  com- 
mon converse.  This  trait,  also,  every  ijallad 
and  aria  carries  to  an  extent  beyond  that 
heard  in  the  spontaneous  utterances  of  emo- 
tion :  add  to  which,  that  the  direction  of 
these  intervals,  which,  as  diverging  from  or 
converging  toward  the  medium  tones,  wo 
found  to  be  ]ihy.siolr)gically  expressive  of  in- 
creasing or  decreasing  emotion,  may  be  ob- 
served to  have  in  music  like  meanings.  Onco 
more,  it  was  pointed  out  that  not  only  extreme 
but  also  rapid  variations  of  pitch  are  charac- 
teristic of  mental  excitement  ;  and  once  more 
we  see  in  the  (piick  changes  of  every  melody 
that  song  carries  the  characteristic  as  far,  if 
not  farther.  Thus,  in  respect  alike  of  l<jud- 
ness,  timbre,  pitch,  intervals,  and  rate  of  vari- 
ation, soug  employs  and  exaggerates  the 
natural  language  of  the  emotions  ;  it  arises 
Irom  a  systematic  combination  ot  those  vocal 
peculiarities  which  are  the  physiological 
t-ffeclsof  acute  pleasure  and  pain. 

Besides  these  chief  characteristics  of  song 
as  distinguished  from  common  speech,  there 
are  sundry  minor  ones  similarly  explicable, 
as  due  to  the  relation  between  mental  and 
muscular  excitement  ;  and  before  proceed- 
ing farther  these  should  be  briefly  noticed. 
Thus,  certain  passions,  and  perhaps  all  pas- 
sions when  pushed  to  an  extreme,  produce 
(probably  through  their  influence  over  i  he  ac- 
tion of  the  heart)  an  effect  the  reverse  of  that 
which  has  been   described  :    they  cause  a 


262 


PROGRESS:   ITS   LAW    AND   CAUSE. 


physical  prostration,  one  symptom  of  wlilcU 
is  a  genen;'  relaxation  of  tiie  nuiscles,  and  u 
consequent  trembling.  We  have  the  trem- 
bling of  auger,  of  fear,  of  hope,  of  joy  ;  and 
the  vocal  muscles  being  implicated  with  the 
rest,  the  voice  too  becomes  tremulous.  Now, 
in  singing,  this  tremulousness  of  voice  is 
very  elTectively  used  by  some  vocalists  in 
highly  pathetic  passages  ;  sometimes,  indeed, 
because  of  its  elfectiveness,  too  much  used 
by  them — as  by  Tamberlik,  for  instance. 

Again,  there  is  a  mode  of  musical  execu- 
tion known  as  the  ntarcnto,  appropriate  to 
energetic  i)assages — to  passages  expressive  of 
exhilaration,  of  resolution,  of  confidence. 
The  action  of  the  vocal  muscles  which  pro- 
duces this  staccato  style  is  analogous  to  the 
nuiscular  action  which  produces  the  sharp, 
decisive,  energetic  movements  of  bod}'  indi- 
catine  these  slates  of  mind  ;  and  therefore  it 
is  that  the  staccato  st}  wj  has  the  meaning  wo 
ascribe  to  it.  Conversely  slurred  intervals 
are  expressive  of  gentler  and  less  active 
feelings  ;  and  are  so  because  they  imply  the 
smaller  muscular  vivacity  due  to  a  lower 
mental  cneriry.  The  dillerence  of  effect  re- 
sulting fiom  difference  of  tirru  in  music,  is 
also  attributable  (o  the  same  law.  Already  it 
has  been  pointed  out  that  the  more  fretpient 
changes  of  pitch  whicli  ordinarily  result 
from  passion  are  imitated  and  developed  in 
song  ;  and  here  we  have  to  add,  that  the  va- 
rious rates  of  such  changes,  approjiriate  to 
the  different  styles  of  music,  are  further  trails 
having  the  same  derivation.  The  slowest 
movements,  larfio  and  adu'jio,  are  used  where 
such  depressing  emotions  as  gritf,  or  such 
unexciting  emotions  as  reverence,  are  to  be 
portrayed  ;  while  the  more  rapid  movements, 
andante,  allegro,  prexto,  represent  succes- 
sively increasing  degrees  of  mental  vivacit}', 
and  do  this  because  they  imi)ly  that  muscular 
activity  Avhich  tlows  from  this  mental  vi- 
vacity. Even  the  r/iythrn,  which  forms  a 
remaining  distinction  between  song  and 
speech,  may  not  improbably  have  a  kindred 
cause.  Wliy  the  actions  excited  by  strong 
feeling  should  tend  to  become  rhythmical  is 
not  very  obvious  ;  but  that  they  do  sn  there 
are  divers  evidences.  There  is  the  swaying 
of  the  body  to  and  fro  under  pain  or  grief, 
of  the  leg  under  impatience  or  agitation. 
Dancing,  too,  is  a  rli^'thmical  action  natural 
to  elevated  emotion.  That  under  excitement 
speech  acquires  a  certain  rhythm,  we  maj' 
occasionally  perceive  in  the  highest  efforts 
of  an  orator.  In  poetry,  which  is  a  form  of 
speech  used  for  the  better  expressi(m  of 
emotional  ideas,  we  have  this  rhythmical 
tendency  developed.  And  when  we  bear  in 
mind  that  dancing,  poetr^',  and  music  are 
connate — are  originally  constituent  parts  of 
the  same  thing — it  becomes  clear  that  the 
measured  movement  common  to  them  all  im- 
plies a  rhythmical  action  of  the  whole  sys- 
tem, the  vocal  apparatus  included  ;  and  that 
so  the  rhythm  of  music  is  a  more  subtle  and 
complex  result  of  this  relation  between  men- 
tal and  muscular  excitement. 

But  it  is  time  to  end  this  analysis,  which 


possibly,  we  have  already  carried  too  far.  It 
13  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  more  special  pe- 
culiarities of  musical  expression  are  to  be  defi- 
nitely explained.  Though  probably  they  may 
all  in  some  way  conform  to  the  principle  that 
has  been  worked  out,  il  is  ol)viously  imprac- 
ticable to  trace  that  principle  in  its  more  ram- 
ified applications.  Nor  is  it  needful  to  our 
argument  that  it  .should  be  so  traced.  The 
foregoing  facts  suihcienlly  prove  that  what 
we  regard  as  the  distinctive  traits  of  song  are 
simply  the  traits  of  emotional  speech  inten- 
si.ied  and  sj'slematized.  In  respect  of  its 
general  characteristics,  we  think  it  lias  been 
made  clear  liuil  vocal  music,  nnd  by  conse- 
quence ail  music,  is  an  iiiealizalion  of  the 
natural  langiiaire  of  jiassiion. 

As  tar  as  il  goes,  thr  scanty  evidence  fur- 
nished liy  hisiory  confirms  this  conclusion. 
Note  first  the  fact  (not  pruperlyan  historical 
one,  bill  filly  grouped  with  each)  that  the 
dance-<  iiantsot  savatre  tril)es  are  very  monol- 
onous  ;  and  in  viitiu-of  llieir  monotony  are 
mutii  more  nearly  allied  t'>  oriiinury  speech 
than  are  Ih"  .songs  of  civilized  races.  Join- 
ing with  tins  liie  fact  that  there  are  still  ex- 
tant among  boatmen  and  others  in  the  East, 
ancient  chants  of  a  like  monotonous  charac- 
ter, we  may  infer  that  vocal  musii;  originallv 
diverged  from  emotional  speech  in  a  gracf- 
ual.  unol)trusive  manner  ;  and  this  is  the  in- 
f(-r<'iice  to  which  our  argument  points.  Fur- 
ther evidence  to  the  same  effect  is  supplied 
by  Greek  history.  The  early  poems  of  the 
Greeks — which,  be  it  remembered,  were 
sacred  legenils  embodied  in  that  rhythmical, 
metaphorical  language  which  strong  feeling 
excites — were  not  recited,  but  chanted  : 
the  tones  and  the  cadences  wero  mutle  musi- 
cal by  the  same  intluencea  which  made  the 
speech  poetical. 

By  those  who  have  investigated  the  mat- 
ter, this  chanting  is  believed  to  have  been  not 
what  we  call  singing,  but  nearly  allied  to 
our  recitative  (far  simpler,  indeed,  if  we 
may  judge  from  the  fact  that  the  early  Greek 
lyre,  which  had  hul  four  strings,  was  played 
in  unison  with  the  voice,  which  was  there- 
fore confined  to  four  notes)  ;  and  as  such, 
much  less  remote  from  common  speech  than 
our  own  singing  is.  For  recitative  or  musi- 
cal recitation,  is  in  all  respects  intermediate 
between  speech  and  song.  Its  average  effects 
are  not  so  loud  as  those  of  song.  Its  tones 
are  less  sonorous  in  timbre  than  those  of  song. 
Commonly  it  diverges  to  a  smaller  extent 
from  the  middle  notes — uses  notes  neither  so 
liigh  nor  so  low  in  pitch.  The  intertals  ha- 
bitual to  it  are  neither  so  wide  nor  so  varied, 
\ls  rate  of  variation  \?,  wot  so  rapid.  And  at 
the  same  time  that  its  primary  7-Ay^/mi  is  less 
decided,  it  has  none  of  that  secondary 
rhythm  produced  by  recurrence  of  the  same 
or  parallel  musical  phras»s,  which  is  one  of 
the  marked  characteristics  of  song.  Thus, 
then,  we  may  not  only  infer,  fem  the  evi- 
dence furnished  by  existing  barbarous  tiibes, 
that  the  vocal  music  of  prehistoric  times  was 
emotional  speech  very  slightly  exalted,  but 
we  see  that  the  earliest  vocal  music  of  which 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


263 


we  have  any  account  differed  much  lesa 
from  emotional  speech  than  does  the  vocal 
music  of  our  days. 

That  recitative  —  beyond  which,  by  the 
waj',  tlie  Chinese  and  Hindoos  seem  never  to 
have  advanced — jriew  naturally  out  of  the 
modulations  and  cadences  of  strong  feeling, 
we  have  indeed  still  current  evidence.  There 
are  even  now  to  be  met  w'th  occasions  on 
which  strong  feeling  vents  itself  in  this  form. 
Whoever  has  been  present  when  a  meeting 
of  Quakers  was  addressed  by  one  of  their 
preachers  (whose  practice  it  is  to  speak  onl}' 
\inder  the  inliuence  of  religious  emotion), 
must  have  been  struck  by  the  quite  unusual 
tones,  like  those  of  a  subdued  chant,  in  which 
the  address  was  made.  It  is  dear,  too.  that 
the  intoning  used  in  some  churches  is  repre- 
sentative of  this  same  mental  state,  and  has 
been  adopted  on  account  of  the  instinctively 
felt  congruily  between  it  and  the  contrition, 
supplication,  or  reverence  verbal)}' expressed. 

And  if,  as  we  have  good  reason  to  l)elieve, 
recitative  arose  by  degrees  out  of  emotional 
speech, 1t  becomes  manifest  that  by  a  con- 
tinuance of  the  same  process  song  has  arisen 
out  of  recitative.  Just  as,  from  the  orations 
and  legends  of  savages,  expressed  in  the 
metaphorical,  allegorical  style  natural  to 
them,  there  sprung  epic  poetry,  out  of  which 
lyric  poetry  was  afterward  developcil  ;  so, 
from  the  exalted  tones  and  cadences  in  \n  hich 
such  orations  and  legends  were  delivered, camo 
the  chant  or  recitative  nuisic,  from  whence 
lyrical  music  has  since  grown  up.  And 
there  has  not  only  thus  been  a  simultaneous 
and  parallel  genesis,  but  there  is  also  a  paral- 
klisni  of  results.  For  lyrical  poetry  (liU'ers 
from  epic  poetry  just  as  lyrical  music  dillers 
from  recitative  :  each  sliU  further  intensities 
the  natural  language  of  the  cmotii^ns.  Lyri- 
cal poetry  is  more  metaphorical,  more  hyper- 
bolic, more  elliptica!,  and  adds  the  rliythm 
of  lines  to  the  rhythm  of  feet  ;  just  as  lyrical 
music  is  louder,  more  sonorous,  more  extreme 
in  its  intervals,  and  adds  the  rhythm  of 
phrases  to  the  rhythm  of  bars.  And  the 
known  fact  that  out  of  epic  poetry  the 
stronger  passions  developed  lyrical  poetry  as 
their  appropriate  veliicle,  strengthens  the  in- 
feience  that  they  similarly  developed  lyrical 
music  out  of  recitative 

Nor  indeed  are  we  without  evidences  of  the 
transition.  It  needs  but  to  listen  to  an  opera 
to  hear  the  leading  gradations.  Between  the 
comparatively  level  recitative  of  ordinary 
dialogue,  the  more  varied  recitative  with 
wider  mtervals  and  higher  tones  used  in  ex- 
citing .scenes,  the  still  more  musical  recitative 
which  preludes  an  air,  and  the  air  itself,  the 
successive  steps  are  but  small  ;  anfl  the  fact 
that  among  airs  themselves  gradations  of  like 
nature  may  be  traced,  further  confirms  the 
conclusion  that  the  highest  form  of  vocal 
music  was  arrived  at  by  degrees. 

Moreover,  we  have  some  clew  to  the  influ- 
ences which  have  induced  this  development, 
and  may  roughly  conceive  the  process  of  it. 
As  the  tones,intervals,  and  cadences  of  strong 
emotion  were  the  elements  out  uf  which  son^' 


was  elaborated  ;  so,  we  may  expo  jt  to  And 
that  still  stronger  emotion  produ<:ed  the  elab- 
oration ;  and  we  have  evidence  implying 
this.  Instances  in  abundance  may  be  cited, 
Bhowing  that  musical  composers  are  men  of 
extremely  acute  sensibilities.  The  VJo  of 
Mozart  depicts  him  as  one  of  intensely  active 
affections  and  highly  impressionable  temper- 
anient.  Various  anecdotes  represent  Bee- 
thoven as  very  susceptible  and  very  passion- 
ate. j\leudels3ohn  is  described  by  those  who 
knew  him  to  have  been  full  of  tine  feeling. 
And  the  almost  incredible  sensitiveness  of 
Chopin  has  l)eea  illustrated  in  the  memoirs 
of  George  Sand.  An  unusually  emotional 
nature  being  thus  the  general  characteristic 
of  musical  composers,  we  have  in  it  just  the 
agency  required  for  the  development  of  reci- 
tative and  song.  Intenser  feeling  producing 
inteuser  manifestations,  any  cause  of  excite- 
ment will  call  forth  from  such  a  nature  tones 
and  changes  of  voice  more  marked  than 
those  calleil  forth  from  an  ordinary  nature — ; 
will  generate  just  those  exaggerations  which 
we  have  found  to  distiuguisii  the  lower  vocal 
music  from  emotional  speech,  and  the  higher 
vocal  music  from  tiie  l.-wer.  Thus  it  becomes 
credible  that  the  four-toned  recitative  of  the 
early  (J reek  poets  (like  all  poets,  nearly  allied 
to  cumposers  in  the  comparative  intensity  of 
their  feelings),  was  really  nothing  more  than 
the  slightly  exaggerated  emotional  speech 
natural  to  them,  which  grew  by  frequent 
use  into  an  organized  form.  And  it  is  readily 
couceivaijle  tliat  the  accumulated  agency  of 
siibsecjuent  poet  musicians,  inheriting  and 
adding  to  the  products  of  those  who  went 
before  them,  sutliced,  in  the  course  of  the 
ten  centuries  which  we  know  it  took,  to  de- 
velop this  four-toned  recitative  into  a  vocal 
music  having  a  ranj-e  of  two  octaves. 

Not  only  may  we  so  understand  how  more 
sonorous  tones,  greater  extremes  of  pitch, 
and  wider  intervals,  were  gradually  intro- 
duced, but  also  how  there  arose  a  greater 
variety  and  com{ilexity  of  musical  expres- 
sion. For  this  same  passionate,  enthusiastic 
temperament,  which  naturally  leads  the 
musical  comi)user  to  express  the  feelings  pos- 
sessed by  others  as  well  as  himself,  in  ex- 
tremer  intervals  and  more  marked  cadences 
than  they  would  use,  also  leads  him  to  give 
musical  utterance  to  feelings  which  they 
either  do  not  exiierience,  or  experience  in 
but  slight  degrees.  In  virtue  of  this  general 
susceptibility  which  distinguishes  him,  he 
regards  with  emotion  events,  scenes,  con- 
duct, character,  which  produce  upon  most 
men  no  appreciable  effect.  The  emotions  so 
generated,  compounded  as  they  are  of  the 
simpler  emotions,  are  not  expressible  by  in- 
tervals and  cadences  natural  to  these,  but  by 
combinations  of  such  intervals  and  cadences  ; 
whence  arise  more  involved  musical  phrases, 
conveying  more  complex,  subtle,  and  un- 
usual feelings.  And  thus  we  may  in  some 
measure  understand  how  it  happens  that 
music  not  only  so  strongly  excites  our  more 
familiar  feeluigs,  but  ais3  produces  feelings 
we  never  had  before  ;  arouses  dormant  sen- 
timents of  which  we  had  not  C!;nc.  ived  tho 


2fi4 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


possibility,  and  do  not  knuw  tlie  meaning  ; 
or,  as  Ricijter  sa3-s,  tells  us  of  tbiogs  we 
buve  not  seen  and  sliall  not  see. 

Indirect  evidences  of  several  kinds  remain 
to  be  brielly  pointed  out.  One  of  tliem  is 
the  dillieulfy,  not  to  .say  impossibility,  of 
otiierwise  accounting  for  the  expressiveness 
of  music.  Whence  comes  it  that  special 
combiualions  of  notes  sh(<uld  have  special 
elfects  upon  our  emotions  ? — that  one  should 
give  us  a  feeling  of  exhilaration,  another  of 
melancholy,  another  of  affection,  another  of 
reverence  ?  Is  it  that  these  special  combi- 
iiutious  have  intrinsic  meanings  apart  from 
the  human  constitution  V — that  a  ccituin 
number  of  aerial  waves  per  second,  followed 
by  a  certain  other  number,  in  the  nature  of 
things  signify  grief,  while  in  the  reverse 
order  they  signify  joy;  and  similarly  with 
all  other  intervals,  phrases,  and  cadences  ? 
Few  will  be  so  irrational  as  to  think  this. 
Is  it,  then,  that  the  meanings  of  these  special 
comljinalions  are  conventional  only? — that 
we  learn  tlicir  implications,  as  we  do  those 
of  word.s,  by  observing  how  others  under- 
stand them  ?  This  is  an  hypothesis  net 
onlydev()idof  evidence,  bui  directly  opposed 
to  the  experience  of  every  one.  How,  then, 
are  musical  effects  to  be  explained  ?  If  the 
theory  above  set  forth  be  accepted,  the  dilli- 
culty  disappears.  If  music,  taking  for  its 
raw  material  the  various  modilications  of 
voice  which  are  the  physiological  results  of 
excited  feeling,  intensifies,  combines,  and 
complicates  them — if  it  exaggerates  the  loud- 
ness, the  resonance,  the  pitch,  the  intervals, 
and  the  variability,  which,  in  virtue  of  an 
oiganiclaw,  are  the  characteristics  of  passion- 
ate speech — if,  by  carrying  out  these  farther, 
more  consistently,  more  unitedly,  and  more 
sustainedly,  in  produces  an  idealized  lan- 
guage of  emotion  ;  then  its  power  over  us 
becomes  comprehensible.  But  in  the  absence 
of  this  theory,  the  exj)ressivencss  of  music 
appears  to  be  inexplicable. 

Again,  the  preference  we  feel  for  certain 
qualities  of  sound  presents  a  like  difficulty, 
admitting  only  of  a  like  solution.  It  is  gen 
crally  agreed  that  the  tones  of  the  human 
voice  are  more  pleasing  than  any  others. 
Grant  that  music  takes  its  rise  from  the  mod- 
ulations of  the  human  voice  under  emotion, 
and  it  becomes  a  natural  consequence  that 
the  tones  of  that  voice  should  appeal  to  our 
feelings  more  than  any  others  ;  and  so  should 
be  considered  more  beautiful  than  any  others. 
But  deny  that  music  has  this  origin,  and  the 
only  alternative  is  the  untenable  position  that 
the  vibrations  proceeding  from  a  vocalist's 
throat  are,  objectively  considered,  of  a  higher 
order  than  those  from  a  horn  or  a  violin. 
Similarly  with  harsh  and  soft  sounds.  If 
the  ccniclusiveuess  of  the  foregoing  reason- 
ings be  not  admitted,  it  must  be  supposed 
that  the  vibrations  causing  the  last  aie  in- 
trinsically better  than  those  causing  the  first ; 
and  that,  in  virtue  of  some  pre-established 
harmony,  the  higher  feelings  and  natures 
produce  the  one,  and  the  lower  the  other. 
But  if  the  foregoing  reasonings  be  valid,  it 


follows,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  we  shall 
like  the  sounds  that  habitually  accompany 
agreeable  feelings,  and  dislike  Uiose  that 
habitually  accompany  disagreeable  feelings. 

Once  more,  the  question,  How  is  the  ex- 
pressiveness of  music  to  be  otherwise  ac- 
counted for?  may  be  supplemented  by  the 
question,  How  is  the  genesis  of  music  to  be 
otherwise  accounted  for?  That  nuisic  is  a 
product  of  civilization  is  manifest  ;  for 
though  savages  have  their  dance-chants, 
these  are  of  a  kinil  scarcely  to  be  dignified 
by  the  title  musical  :  at  most,  they  supply 
but  the  vaguet-t  rudiment  of  music,  properly 
so  called.  And  if  music  has  been  by  slow 
steps  developed  in  the  course  of  civilization, 
it  must  have  been  developed  out  of  some- 
thing. If,  then,  its  origin  is  not  that  above 
alleged,  what  is  its  origin  ? 

Thus  we  find  that  the  negative  evidence 
confirms  the  positive,  and  that,  taken  to- 
gether, they  furnish  strong  proof.  "We  have 
seen  that  there  is  a  physiological  relation, 
common  to  man  and  all  animals,  between 
feeling  and  nuiscular  action  ;  that  as  vocal 
sounds  are  produced  by  muscular  action, 
there  is  a  consequent  physiological  relation 
between  feeling  and  vocal  sounds  ;  that  all 
the  modifications  of  voice  expressive  of  feel- 
ing are  the  direct  results  of  this  physiologi- 
cal relation  ;  that  music,  adopting  all  these 
modifications,  intensifies  them  more  and 
more  as  it  ascends  to  its  higher  and  higher 
forms,  and  becomes  music  sinqdy  in  virtue 
of  thus  intensifying  them  ;  that,  from  the 
ancient  epic  ])Oct  chanfing  his  verses,  down 
to  the  modern  musical  composer,  men  of  un- 
usually strong  feelings,  prone  to  express  them 
in  extreme  forms,  have  been  naturallj'  the 
agents  of  these  successive  intensifications  ; 
and  that  so  there  has  little  by  little  ari.sen  a 
wide  divergence  between  this  idealized  lan- 
guage of  emotion  and  its  natural  language  : 
to  which  direct  evidence  we  have  just 
added  the  indirect — that  on  no  other  tenable 
hypothesis  can  cither  the  expressiveness  or 
the  genesis  of  music  be  explained. 

And  now,  what  is  thvt  /miction  of  music? 
Has  music  any  effect  beyond  the  immediate 
pleasure  it  produces  ?  Analogy  suggests 
that  it  has.  The  enjoyments  of  a  good  din- 
ner do  not  end  with  themselves,  but  minister 
to  bodily  well-being.  Though  people  do  not 
marry  with  a  view  to  maintain  the  lace,  yet 
the  passions  which  impel  them  to  marry 
secure  its  maintenance.  Parental  affection 
is  a  feeling  which,  while  it  conduces  to 
parental  happiness,  insures  the  nurture  of 
offspring.  Men  love  to  accumulate  property, 
often  without  thought  of  the  benefits  it  pro- 
duces ;  but  in  pursuing  the  pleasure  of 
acquisition  they  indirectly  open  the  way  to 
other  pleasures.  The  wish  for  public  ap- 
proval impels  all  of  us  to  do  many  things 
which  we  should  otherwise  not  do — to  under- 
take great  labors,  face  great  dangers,  and 
habitually  rule  ourselves  in  a  way  that 
smooths  social  intercourse  :  that  is,  in  grati- 
fying our  love  of  approbation  we  subserve 
divers  ulterior  purposes.      And,  generally, 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


265 


our  nature  is  such  that  in  fulfilling  each  tic- 
sire,  we  in  some  way  facilitate  the  fullilnieut 
of  the  rest.  But  the  lovu  of  music  seems  to 
exist  for  its  own  sake.  The  delights  of 
melody  and  harmony  do  not  obviously  min- 
ister to  the  welfare  either  of  the  individual 
or  of  society.  iMay  we  not  suspect,  how- 
ever, that  this  exception  is  ap[)arent  only  ? 
Is  it  net  a  rational  incjuirj',  "What  are  the  in- 
direct hcnelits  which  accrue  from  music,  in 
addition  to  the  direct  pleasure  it  gives  ? 

But  that  it  would  take  us  too  far  out  of 
our  truck,  we  should  prelude  this  inquiry  by 
illustrating  at  some  h?ngth  a  certain  general 
law  of  progress  :  the  law  that  alike  in  occu- 
j)ations,  sciences,  arts,  the  divisions  that  had 
a  common  root,  but  b}'  continual  divergence 
have  become  distinct,  and  are  now  being  sep- 
arately developed,  are  not  truly  independent, 
but  severally  act  and  react  on  each  other  to 
their  mutual  advancement.  Merely  hin;ing 
thus  much,  however,  by  way  of  showing 
that  there  are  many  analogies  to  justify  us, 
we  go  on  to  express  the  opinion  that  there 
exists  a  relationship  of  this  kind  between 
music  and  speech. 

All  speech  is  compounded  of  two  elements, 
the  words  and  the  tones  in  which  they  are 
uttered — the  signs  of  ideas  and  the  signs  of 
feelings.  While  certain  articulations  express 
the  thought,  certain  vocal  sounds  express 
the  more  or  less  of  pain  or  pleasure  which 
the  thought  gives.  Using  the  word  cadence 
in  an  unusually  extended  sense,  as  compre- 
hending ail  modifications  of  voice,  we  may 
say  that  cmknce  is  the  commenlary  of  the 
emotions  upon  the  propositions  of  tJie  intcUect. 
This  duality  of  spoken  language,  though  nut 
formally  recognized,  is  recognized  in  prac- 
tice by  every  one  ;  and  every  one  knows  that 
very  often  more  weight  attaches  to  the  tones 
than  to  the  words.  Daily  experience  sup- 
plies cases  in  which  the  same  .sentence  of 
disapproval  will  be  understood  as  meaning 
little  or  meaning  much,  according  to  the  in- 
flections of  voice  which  accompanj'  it  ;  and 
daily  experience  supplies  still  more  striking 
cases  in  which  words  and  tones  are  in  direct 
contradiction— the  first  expressing  consent, 
■while  the  last  express  reluctitnce  ;  and  the 
last  being  believed  rnthcr  than  the  first. 

These  two  distinct  but  interwoven  ele- 
ments of  speech  have  been  undergoing  a 
Ximultaueous  development.  We  know  that 
in  the  course  of  civilization  words  have  been 
multiplied,  new  parts  of  speech  have  been  in- 
troduced, sentences  have  grown  more  varied 
and  complex  ;  and  we  may  fairly  infer  that 
during  the  same  time  new  modifications  of 
voice  have  come  into  use,  fresh  intervals 
have  been  adopted,  and  cadences  have  be- 
come more  elaborate.  For  while,  on  the  one 
hand,  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that,  along 
with  the  undeveloped  verbal  forms  of  bar- 
barism, tnere  existed  a  developed  system  of 
vocal  inflections,  it  is,  on  the  other  hand, 
necessary  to  suppose  that,  along  with  the 
higher  and  more  numerous  verbal  forms 
needed  to  convey  the  multii)lied  and  compli- 
cated ideas  of  civilized  life,  there  have  grown 


up  those  more  involved  changes  of  voice 
which  express  the  feelings  proper  to  such, 
ideas.  If  intellectual  language  is  a  growth, 
so  also,  without  doubt,  is  emotional  language 
a  growth. 

Now,  the  hypothesis  which  we  have 
hin  ed  above  is,  that  beyond  the  direct 
pleasure  wliich  it  gives,  music  hat  the  indi- 
rect effect  of  developing  this  language  of  the 
emotions.  Having  its  root,  as  we  luive  en- 
deavored to  show,  in  those  tones,  intervals, 
and  cadences  of  speech  which  express  feel- 
ing— arising  by  the  combination  and  intensi- 
fying of  these,  and  coming  finally  to  havo 
an  embodiment  of  its  own,  music  has  all 
along  been  reacting  upon  speech,  and  in- 
creasing its  power  of  rendering  emotion. 
The  use  in  recitative  and  song  of  inflections 
more  expressive  than  ordinary  ones,  must 
from  the  begiuning  have  tended  to  develop 
the  ordinary  ones.  Familiarity  with  the 
more  varied  combinations  of  tones  that 
occur  in  vocal  music  can  scarcely  have 
failed  to  give  greater  variety  of  combi- 
nation to  the  tones  in  which  wo  utter 
our  impressions  and  desires.  The  complex 
musical  phrases  by  wliicu  composers  have 
conveyed  complex  emotions  may  rationally 
be  supposed  to  have  influenced  us  in  making 
those  involved  cadences  of  conversation  by 
which  we  convey  our  subtler  thoughts  and 
feelings. 

That  the  cultivation  of  music  has  no  effect 
on  the  mind,  few  will  be  absurd  enough  to 
c  intend.  And  if  it  hiis  an  ett'ect,  what  more 
natural  effect  is  there  than  this  of  develop- 
ing our  perception  of  the  meanings  of  inflec- 
tions, (pialities,  and  modulations  of  voice  ; 
and  giving  us  a  correspondiuL'ly  increased 
power  of  using  them?  Just  as  mathematics, 
taking  its  start  from  the  phenomena  of  phys- 
ics and  astronomy,  and  presently  coming  to 
be  a  separate  science,  h;is  since  reacted  on 
phi'sics  and  Jistronomy  to  their  immense  ad- 
vancement ;  just  as  chemistry,  first  arising 
out  of  the  processes  of  metallurgy  and  the 
industrial  arts,  and  gradually  growing  into 
an  independent  study,  has  now  become  an 
aid  to  all  kinds  of  production  ;  just  as  phys- 
iology, originating  out  of  mjdicine  and  once 
subordinate  to  it,  but  latterly  pursu<,'d  for  its 
own  sake,  is  in  our  daj'  coming  to  be  the 
science  on  which  the  progress  of  medicine 
depends  ;  .so  music,  having  its  root  in  emo- 
tional language,  and  gradually  evolved  from 
it,  has  ever  been  reacting  upon  and  further 
advancing  it.  Whoever  will  examine  the 
facts  will  find  this  hypothesis  to  be  in  har- 
mony with  the  method  of  civilization  every- 
where displayed. 

It  will  .scarcely  be  expected  that  much  di- 
rect evidence  in  support  of  this  conclusion 
can  be  given.  The  facts  are  of  a  kind  which 
it  is  ditticult  to  measure,  and  of  which  we 
have  no  records.  Soue  suggestive  traits, 
however,  may  be  noted.  M^iy  we  not  say. 
for  instance,  that  the  Italians, 'amom:  whom 
modern  music  was  earliest  cillivaied.  and 
who  have  more  especially  practised  and  ex- 
celled in  melody  (the  divis'ou  of  music  with 


2G6 


PHOGRKSS:  ITS   LAW   AM)   CAUSE. 


which  our  arcfument  is  chiefly  concernefl)-— 

may  we  nnl  say  that  these  Italians  speak  in 
ino'i«  varied  and  expressive  inflections  and 
cadences  tlian  any  other  nation  ?  On  the 
other  hand,  may  we  not  say  that,  confined 
almost  exclusively  as  they  have  hitherto  been 
to  their  national  airs,  which  have  a  marked 
family  likeness,  and  tlierefore  accvjstonied  to 
but  a  limited  ranj^o  of  musical  expression, 
the  Scotch  are  unusually  monotonous  in  the 
intervals  and  modulations  of  their  speech  ? 
And  again,  do  we  not  find  among  different 
classes  of  the  same  nation,  differences  that 
have  like  implications  ?  The  gentleman  and 
the  clown  stand  in  very  decided  contrast 
with  respect  to  variety  of  intonation.  List- 
en to  the  conversation  of  a  servant -girl,  and 
then  to  that  of  a  refined,  accomplished  lad}', 
and  the  more  delicate  and  complex  changes 
of  voice  tised  by  the  latter  will  i)e  conspic- 
uous. Now,  without  going  so  far  as  to  say 
that  out  of  all  the  differences  of  culture  to 
which  the  upper  and  lower  classes  are  sub- 
jected, difference  of  musical  culture  is  that 
to  which  alone  this  difference  of  speech  is  as- 
cribal)le  ;  yet  we  may  fairly  say  that  tiiere 
seems  a  much  more  obvious  connection  of 
cause  and  effect  between  these  than  between 
any  others.  Thus,  while  the  inductive  evi- 
dence to  which  we  can  appeal  is  but  scanty 
and  vague,  yet  what  there  is  favors  our  po- 
sition. 

Probably  most  will  think  that  the  function 
here  assigned  to  music  is  one  of  very  little 
moment.  But  further  reflection  may  lead 
them  to  a  contrary  conviction.  In  its  bear- 
ings upon  human  happiness,  we  believe  that 
this  emotional  language,  which  musical  cul- 
ture develops  and  refines,  is  only  second  in 
importance  to  the  language,  of  tiie  intellect ; 
perhaps  not  even  second  to  it.  For  these 
modifications  of  voice  produced  by  feelings 
are  the  means  of  exciting  like  feelingi*  in 
others.  Joined  with  gestures  and  expres- 
sions of  fice,  they  give  life  to  the  otherwise 
dead  wojds  in  which  the  intellect  utters  its 
ideas  ;  and  so  enable  the  hearer  not  only  to 
understand  the  state  of  mind  the}'  accompany, 
but  to  partake  of  that  state.  In  short,  they 
are  the  ciiief  media  of  stympathy.  And  if  we 
consider  how  much  Loth  our  general  welfare 
and  our  immediate  pleasures  depend  upon 
sympathy,  we  shall  recognize  the  importance 
of  whatever  makes  this  sj'mpathy  greater. 
If  we  bear  in  mind  that  by  their  fellow-feel- 
ing men  aie  led  to  behave  justly,  kindly,  and 
considerately  to  each  other— that  the  "differ- 
ence between  the  cruelty  of  the  barbarous 
and  the  humanity  of  the  civilized  results 
from  the  increase  of  fellow-feeling  ;  if  we 
bear  in  mind  that  this  faculty  which  makes 
us  sharers  in  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  others, 
is  the  basis  of  all  the  higher  affections— that 
in  friendship,  love,  and  all  domestic  pleas- 
ures it  is  an  essential  element  ;  if  we  bear 
in  mind  how  much  our  direct  gratifications 
are  intensified  by  sympathy  ;  liow,  at  the 
theatre,  the  concert,  the  picture  gallery.  We 
lose  half  our  enjoyment  if  we  have  no  one  to 
enjoy  with  us  ;  if,  in  short,  we  bear  in  mind 


that  for  all  happiness  heyrmd  what  the  un- 
friended recluse  can  have  we  aie  indebted 
to  this  same  sympathy,  we  shall  see  tliatthe 
agencies  which  communicate  it  can  scarcely 
be  overrated  in  value. 

The  tendency  of  civilization  is  more  and 
more  to  repress  the  antagonistic  elements  of 
our  characters  and  to  develop  tlie  social  ones — 
to  curb  our  purely  selfish  desires  and  exercise 
our  unselfisli  ones  ;  to  replace  private  gratifi- 
cations by  gratifications  resulting  from,  or  in- 
volving, the  happiness  of  others.  And  while, 
by  this  adaptation  to  the  .social  state,  the 
sympathetic  side  of  our  nature  is  being  un- 
folded, there  is  simultaneously  growing  up  a 
language  of  sympathetic  intercourse — a  lan- 
guage throtigh  which  we  communicate  to 
others  the  luippiness  we  feel,  and  are  made 
sharers  in  their  happiness. 

This  double  process,  of  which  the  effects 
arc  already  sulBciently  appreciable,  must  go 
on  to  an  extent  of  which  we  can  as  yet  have 
no  adequate  conception.  The  habitual  con- 
cealment of  our  feelings  diminishing,  as  it 
nuiat,  in  proportion  as  our  feelings  become 
such  as  do  not  demand  couceulmcDt.  we  may 
conclude  that  the  exhibition  of  tlicm  will  be- 
come much  more  vivid  than  we  now  dure  al- 
low it  to  be  ;  and  this  implies  a  more  ex- 
pressive emotional  language.  At  the  same 
time,  feelings  of  a  higher  and  more  complex 
kind,  as  ytt  «'xperienced  only  by  the  culti- 
vated few,  will  become  genend  ;  and  there 
will  be  a  corresponding  development  of  the 
emotional  language  into  more  involved 
forms.  Just  as  there  has  silently  grown  up 
a  language  of  ideas,  which,  lude  as  it  at  first; 
was,  now  enables  us  to  convey  with  precision 
the  most  subtle  and  complicated  thoughts  ; 
so  there  is  still  silently  growin;.,  up  a  lan- 
guage of  feelings,  which,  notwithstanding  its 
present  imperfection,  we  may  expect  will  ul- 
timately enable  men  vividly  and  completely 
to  impress  on  each  other  all  the  emotions 
which  they  experience  from  moment  to  mo- 
ment. 

Thus  if,  as  we  have  endeavored  to  show,  it 
is  the  function  of  music  to  facilitate  the  de- 
velopment of  this  emotional  language,  we 
may  regard  music  as  an  aid  to  the  achieve- 
ment of  that  higher  happiness  which  it  in- 
distinctly shadows  forth.  Tho.se  vague  feel- 
ings of  unexperienced  felicity  which  music 
arouses,  those  indefinite  impressions  of  an 
unknown  ideal  life  which  it  calls  up,  may  be 
considered  as  a  prophecy,  to  the  furalmeut 
of  which  nmsic  is  itself  partly  instrumental. 
The  strange  capacity  which  we  have  for 
being  so  affected  by  melody  and  harmony, 
may  be  taken  to  imply  both  that  it  is  within 
the  possibilities  of  our  nature  to  lealize 
those  intenser  delights  they  dimly  suggest, 
and  that  they  are  in  some  way  concernt.d  in 
the  reali^zation  of  them.  On  this  supposition 
the  power  and  the  meaning  of  music  become 
comprehensible  ;  but  otherwise  they  are  a 
mystery. 

We  will  only  add,  that  if  the  probability 
of  these  corollaries  be  admitted,  then  music 
must  take  rank  as  the  highest  of  the  fine 


PKOGIIESS;   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


267 


arts — as  the  one  which  more  Ihan  iiny  other 
ministers  to  liumaii  "welfare.  Aiul  thus,  cvcu 
leaving  out  of  view  tlie  iniraediale  gratifica- 
tions it  is  hourly  giving,  we  cannot  too 
much  applaud  lliat  progress  of  musical  cul- 
ture whicli  is  becoming  one  of  the  character- 
istica  of  our  age. 

IV. 

THE  DEVELOPMKKT   IIYPOTIIESIS. 

In  a  debate  upon  the  development  hypoth- 
esis, lately  narrated  to  me  by  a  friend,  one 
of  the  disputants  was  diiscribed  as  arguing, 
that  as,  in  all  our  experience,  we  know  no 
such  phenomenon  as  transmutation  of  spe- 
cies, it  is  unphilosophical  to  assume  that 
transmutation  of  species  ever  takes  place. 
Had  1  been  present,  I  think  that,  passing 
over  his  assertion,  which  is  open  to  criti- 
cism, I  should  have  replied  that,  as  in  all 
our  experience  we  have  never  known  a  epe- 
cies  created,  it  was,  by  his  own  showing,  un- 
philosophical to  assume  that  any  species  ever 
had  been  created. 

Those  who  cavalierly  reject  the  theory  of 
evolution,  as  not  adequately  supported  by 
facts,  seem  quite  to  forget  that  their  own 
theory  is  supported  by  no  facts  at  all.  Like 
the  majority  of  men  who  are  born  to  a  given 
belief,  they  demand  the  most  rigorous  proof 
of  any  adverse  lyilief,  but  assume  that  their 
own  needs  none.  Here  we  find,  scattered 
over  the  globe,  vegetable  and  animal  organ- 
isms numbering,  of  the  one  kind  (according 
to  Humboldt),  some  ;J2t),000  species,  and  of 
the  other,  some  2,000.000  species  (see  Car- 
penter) ;  and  if  to  these  we  add  the  numbers 
of  animal  and  vegetable  species  that  have  be- 
come extinct,  we  may  safely  estimate  the 
number  of  species  th;.t  have  existed,  and  are 
existing,  on  the  earth,  at  not  less  than  ten 
mUlioiis.  Well,  which  is  the  most  rational 
theory  about  these  ten  millions  of  species  ? 
Is  it  most  likely  that  there  have  been  ten 
millions  of  special  creations?  or  is  it  most 
likely  that  by  continual  modifications,  due 
to  Change  of  circumstances,  ten  millions  of 
varieties  have  been  produced,  as  varieties  are 
being  produced  stili  ? 

Doubtless  many  will  reply  that  they  can 
mjre  easily  conceive  ten  millions  of  special 
creations  to  have  takeji  place,  than  They  can 
conceive  that  ten  millions  of  varieties  have 
arisen  by  successive  modifications.  All  such, 
however,  will  find,  on  inquiry,  that  they  are 
under  an  illusion.  This  is  one  of  the  many 
cases  in  which  men  do  not  really  believe,  but 
rather  belkce  they  belieee.  It  is  not  that  they 
can  truly  conceive  ten  millions  of  special 
creations  to  have  taken  place,  but  that  they 
think  (hey  can  &j  so.  Careful  introspection 
will  show  them  that  they  have  never  yet  re- 
alized to  themselves  the  creation  of  even  one 
species.  If  they  have  formed  a  definite  con- 
ception of  the  process,  let  them  tell  us  how  a 
new  species  is  constructed,  and  how  it  makes 
its  appearance.  Is  it  thrown  down  from  the 
clouds  V  or  must  we  hold  to  the  notion  that 
it  stiuggles  up  out  of  the  ground?    Do  its 


limba  anl  viscera  rush  together  from  all  tha 
pi/inls  of  the  compass?  or  nuist  we  receivo 
the  old  Ilebiew  idea,  that  God  takes  clay  and 
moulds  a  new  creature  ?  If  they  say  that  a 
new  creature  is  produced  in  none  of  these 
modes,  which  are  too  absurd  to  be  lielieved  ; 
then  they  are  required  to  describe  the  mode 
in  which  a  new  creature  imnj  be  produced— a 
mode  which  iloes  not  seem  absurd  ;  and  such 
i\  mode  they  will  find  that  they  neither  have 
conceived  nor  can  conceive. 

Should  the  believers  in  special  creatioua 
consider  it  unfair  thus  to  call  upon  them  tu 
describe  how  special  creations  lake  place,  1 
reply,  that  this  is  far  les-s  than  they  demand 
from  the  supporters  of  the  development  hy- 
pothesis. They  are  merely  asked  to  point 
out  a  conceitiible  mode.  On  the  other  hand, 
they  ask,  not  simply  for  a  conceivable  mode, 
but  for  the  actual  mode.  They  do  not  say. 
Show  us  how  this  imiy  take  place  ;  but  they 
say.  Show  us  how  this  does  take  place.  So 
far  from  its  being  unreasonable  to  put  the 
above  question,  it  would  be  reasonable  to  ask 
not  only  for  a  possible  mode  of  special  crea- 
tion, but  for  an  ascertained  mode  ;  seeing 
that  this  is  no  greater  a  demand  than  they 
make  upon  their  opponents. 

And  here  wc  may  perceive  how  much 
more  defensible  the  new  doctrine  is  than  the 
old  one.  Even  could  the  supporters  of  the 
development  hypothesis  merely  show  that 
t/ie  origination  of  species  by  the  process  of 
modification  is  conceivable,  they  would  be  ia 
a  better  position  than  their  opponents.  But 
they  can  do  much  more  than  this.  They  caa 
show  that  the  process  of  modification  has  ef- 
fected, and  is  effecting,  decided  changes  ia 
all  organisms  subject  to  modifymg  iufiueuces. 
Though,  from  the  imimsdibility  of  getting  at 
a  sufficiency  t;f  facts,  they  are  unable  to  trace 
the  many  phases  through  which  any  existing 
species  has  passed  in  arriving  at  its  present 
fonn,  or  to  identify  the  infiuences  which 
caused  the  successive  modifications,  yet 
they  can  show  that  any  existing  species — 
annnal  or  vegetable — when  placed  under 
conditions  different  from  its  previous  ones, 
immediatdy  begins  to  undergo  certain  changes 
of  structure  fitting  it  for  tlce  new  amdiHona. 
They  can  show  that  in  successive  generations 
these  changes  continue,  until  ultimately  tlio 
uew  conditions  become  the  natural  ones. 
They  can  show  that  ia  cultivated  plants,  iu 
domesticated  animals,  and  in  the  several 
races  of  men,  such  alterations  have  takea 
place.  They  can  show  that  the  degrees  of 
difference  so  produced  are  often,  as  in  dogs, 
greater  than  tho.se  on  which  distinctions  of 
species  are  fn  other  cases  founded.  They 
can  show  that  it  is  a  matter  of  dispute 
whether  some  of  these  modified  forms  ar6 
varieties  or  separate  species.  They  caa 
show,  too,  that  the  changes  daily  taking 
place  in  ourselves — the  facility  that  attends 
long  practice,  and  the  loss  of  aptitude  that 
begins  wlien  practice  ceases — the  strengthen- 
ing of  passions  liahilually  gratified,  and  thu 
weakening  of  those  habitually  curbed — tha 
development  of  every  faculty,  bodily,  moral. 


268 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


or  intellectual,  accordiup  to  the  use  made  of 
it, — are  all  explicable  on  this  same  principle. 
And  thus  they  can  show  tiiat  throuyliout  all 
organic  nature  there  i.<>  at  work  a  modifying? 
influence  of  the  kind  they  assign  as  tlie  cause 
of  these  specific  dillerences  :  an  influence 
which,  Ihoujri)  slow  in  its  action,  docs,  in 
time,  if  the  circumstances  demand  it.  pro- 
duce marked  changes — an  inflaeuce  whicli, 
to  all  appearance,  would  produce  in  tlie  mill- 
ions of  years,  and  under  tiic  great  varielics 
of  condition  which  geological  records  inipl^', 
anv  amount  of  change. 

Which,  then,  is  the  most  rational  hj'poth- 
esis  ? — that  of  special  creations,  wlii(;h  has 
neither  a  fact  to  sui)port  it  nor  is  even  defi- 
nitely coucei7al)le  ;  or  that  of  modification, 
■which  is  not  only  definitely  cuuceivahle, 
but  is  countenanced  hy  the  habitudes  of 
every  existing  organism  ? 

That  by  any  series  of  changes  a  protozoon 
should  over  become  a  mammal,  seems  to 
those  who  are  not  familiar  with  zoology,  and 
■who  lia"vc  not  .seen  how  clear  becomes  the 
relationship  between  the  simplest  and  tiie 
most  complex  forms  when  intermediate 
forms  are  examined,  a  very  grotesque  notion. 
Ilabituallj'  looking  at  things  rather  in  their 
statical  than  in  their  dynamical  asjicct,  they 
never  realize  the  fact  thiit,  by  small  incrc- 
ments  of  modification,  any  amount  of  modi 
fication  may  in  time  be  generated.  That 
surprise  wiiich  they  feel  on  finding  one 
whom  they  last  saw  as  a  boy,  grown  into  a 
man,  becomes  incredulity  when  the  degree 
of  change  is  greater.  Nevertheless,  abun- 
dant instances  are  at  hand  of  the  mode  in 
which  we  may  pass  to  the  most  diver.se 
forms,  by  iusensii)le  gradations.  Arguing 
the  matter  some  time  since  with  a  learned 
professor,  I  illustrated  my  position  thus  : 
You  admit  that  there  is  no  ajiparcnt  relation- 
ship between  a  circle  and  an  hyperbola.  The 
one  is  a  finite  curve  ;  the  other  is  au  infinite 
one.  All  parts  of  the  one  arc  alike  ;  of  the 
other  no  two  parts  arc  alike.  The  one  in- 
closes a  space  ;  the  other  will  not  inclose  a 
space  though  produced  forever.  Yet  oppo- 
site as  are  these  curves  in  all  their  i>roperties, 
they  may  be  connected  together  by  a  series 
of  Tntermediate  curves,  no  one  of  which  dif- 
fers from  the  adjacent  ones  in  any  appre- 
ciable degree.  Thus,  if  a  cone  be  cut  by  a 
plane  at  right  angles  to  its  axis  we  get  a 
circle.  If,  instead  of  being  perfectly  at  right 
angles,  the  plane  subtends  with  the  axis  an 
angle  of  8'J^  59',  we  have  au  ellipse,  which 
no  human  eye,  even  when  aided  by  an  accu- 
late  pair  of  composses,  can  distinguish  from 
a  circle.  Decreasing  the  angle  minute  by 
minute,  the  ellipse  becomes  first  perceptibly 
eccentric,  then  manifestly  so,  and  by  and  by 
acquires  so  immensely  elongated  a  form  as 
to  bear  no  recognizable  resemblance  to  a 
circle.  By  continuing  this  process,  the 
ellipse  passes  insensibly  into  a  parabola  ;  and 
ultimately,  by  still  further  diniiuishing  the 
angle,  into  an  hyperbola.  Now  here  we 
have  four  different  species  of  curve — circle, 
ellipse,  parabola,  and  hyperbola — each  hav- 


ing its  peculiar  properties  and  its  separate 
equation,  and  the  first  and  last  of  which  are 
quite  opposite  in  nature,  rnrinrctod  together 
as  members  of  one  .series,  all  producii)le  by 
a  single  process  of  in.sensible  modification. 

But  the  blindness  of  those  who  think  it 
absurd  to  suppose  that  comi>lex  organic 
forms  may  have  arisen  by  successive  modifi- 
cations out  of  simple  ones,  beeomes  astonish- 
ing when  we  remember  that  complex  organic 
forms  arc  daily  being  thus  produced.  A 
tree  diff<rs  from  a  seed  immeasurably  in 
every  resp?ct — in  bulk,  in  structure,  in  color, 
in  form,  in  specitic  gravity,  in  chemical 
composition  :  dilTers  so  greatly  that  no  visi- 
ble resemblance  of  any  kind  can  be  pointed 
out  between  them.  Yet  is  the  one  changed 
in  the  course  of  a  few  j-ears  into  the  other  : 
changed  so  gradually,  that  at  no  moment 
can  it  be  said,  Now  the  seed  ceases  to  be, 
and  the  tree  exists.  What  can  be  more 
widely  contrasted  than  a  newly-i)orn  cliild 
and  the  small,  semi-transparent,  gelatinous 
si)herule  constituting  the  human  ovum '! 
The  infant  is  so  conij)lex  in  structure  that  a 
cycloi)a'dia  is  needed  to  describe  its  constit- 
uent parts.  The  germinal  vesicle  is  so 
simple  that  it  may  l)e  defined  in  a  line. 
Nevertheless,  a  few  months  suflice  to  develop 
the  one  out  of  the  other  ;  and  that,  too,  by  a 
series  of  modifications  so  small  that  were 
the  embryo  examined  at  successive  minutes, 
even  a  microscope  would  with  difiiculty  dis- 
close any  sensible  changes.  That  the  uned- 
ucated and  the  ill-educated  should  think  the 
hypothesis  that  all  races  of  being.s,  man  in- 
clu.sive,  may  in  process  of  time  have  been 
evolved  from  the  simplest  monad,  a  ludicrous 
one,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  Jhit  for  the 
physiologist,  who  knows  that  every  individ- 
ual being  is  .so  evolved — ■vNho  knows  further, 
that  in  tlu  ir  earliest  condition  the  germs  of 
all  plants  awl  annuals  \\hatever  are  no  sim- 
ilar, "  that  there  is  no  appreciable  distinction 
among  them  which  would  enable  it  to  be  de- 
termined whether  a  particular  molecule  is 
the  germ  of  a  conferva  or  of  an  oak,  of  a 
zoophyte  or  of  a  mau  ;"  ■* — for  him  to  nuike 
a  difiiculty  of  the  matter  is  inexcusable. 
Surely  if  a  single  cell  u'.ay,  when  subjected 
to  certain  influences,  become  a  man  \u  the 
space  of  twenty  years,  there  is  nothing  ab- 
surd in  the  liypothtsis  that  under  certain 
other  influences  a  cell  may  in  the  course  of 
millions  of  years  give  origin  to  the  human 
race.  The  two  processes  are  generically  the 
same,  and  differ  only  in  length  and  com- 
plexity. 

We  have,  indeed,  in  the  part  taken  by 
many  scientific  men  in  this  controversy  of 
"  Law  versus  Miracle,"  a  good  illustration  of 
the  tenacious  vitality  of  superstitions.  Ask 
one  of  our  leading  geologists  or  physiologists 
whether  he  believes  in  the  !Mosaic  accoimt 
of  the  creation,  and  he  will  take  the  question 
as  next  to  an  insult.  Either  he  rejects  the 
narrative  entirely,  or  understands  it  in  some 
vague  non-natural  sense.  Yet  one  part  of  it 
he  unconsciously  adopts,  and  that,  too,  liter- 
ally.   For  "Whence  has  he  got  this  notion  of 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE. 


2Sd 


"  special  creations,"  which  he  thinks  so 
reasonable,  and  fights  for  so  vigorously  ? 
Evidently  he  can  trace  it  buck  to  no  other 
source  than  Ibis  mylh  which  he  repudiates. 
He  has  not  a  single  fiict  in  nature  to  quote 
in  proof  of  it ;  nur  is  he  prepared  wilh  any 
chain  of  abstract  reasoning  by  which  it  may 
be  established.  Catechise  him,  and  he  will 
•be  forced  to  confess  that  the  notion  was  put 
into  his  nVmd  in  childhood  as  pait  of  a  story 
which  he  now  thinks  absurd.  And  why, 
after  rejecting  all  the  rest  of  this  story,  he 
should  strenuously  defend  this  last  remnant 
of  it  as  though  he  had  received  it  ou  valid 
authority,  he  would  be  puzzled  to  say. 


THE  SOCI.\Ii  ORGANISM. 

Siu  .Tamks  JlACiNTOSir  got  great  credit  for 
the  Siiying.  that  "  constitutions  are  not  made, 
but  grow/'  In  our  day  the  most  siguiflcant 
thing  about  this  saying  is,  that  it  was  ever 
thouglit  so  significant.  As  from  the  surprise 
displayed  b/  a  man  at  some  faniilij'.r  fact, 
you  may  judge  of  his  geneial  culture  ;  so 
from  the  ailmiration  which  an  age:iccords  to 
a  new  thought,  its  average  degree  of  enlight- 
enment may  be  inferred.  Tliat  this  apoph- 
thegm of  ,M"acintosl<  should  have  i)een(iuotul 
and  reipinted  as  it  has.  shows  huw  profound 
has  been  tiie  ignorance  of  social  science.  A 
small  ray  of  liulli  lias  seemed  brilliant,  as  a 
distant  rushlight  looks  Hkc  a  star  in  the  sui- 
rounding  darkness. 

Such  a  conception  could  not,  indeed,  fail 
to  be  .startling  wlien  let  fall  in  the  nndst  of  a 
system  of  thought  to  which  it  was  utterly 
alien.  Universally  in  ^lacintosh's  day.  things 
were  explained  on  tlie  hyi)i»lhtsis  of  manu- 
facture lather  than  thai  of  growth:  as  in- 
deed they  are,  by  the  majority,  in  our  own 
day.  It  was  held  that  the  planets  were  sev- 
erally projected  round  the  sun  from  the 
Creator's  hand,  with  exactly  the  velocity  re- 
quired  to  balance  the  sun's  attraction.  Tho 
formation  of  the  earlii,  the  separation  of  seu 
from  land,  the  productiou  of  animals,  were 
mechanical  works  from  which  God  rested  as 
a  laborer  rests.  Man  was  supi)0sed  to  bo 
moulded  after  a  manner  somewhat  akin  to 
that  in  which  a  modeller  makes  a  clay-ligurc. 
And  of  course,  in  harmony  witii  such  iileas, 
societies  were  tacitly  assumed  to  be  arranged 
thus  or  thus  by  direct  interposilir.n  of  Provi- 
dence ;  or  by  the  regulations  of  lawmakers  ; 
or  by  both. 

Yet  that  societies  are  not  artificially  put 
together  is  a  truth  so  manifest  that  it  seems 
wonderful  men  should  have  ever  overlooked 
it.  Perhaps  nothing  more  clearly  shows  the 
small  value  of  historical  studies,  as  lliey  have 
been  conunonly  pursued.  You  need  but  to 
look  at  the  changes  going  on  around,  or  ob- 
serve social  organization  in  its  leading  pecul- 
iarities, to  see  that  these  are  neither  super- 
natuial  nor  are  deterndncd  by  the  wills  of 
individual  men,  as  by  implication  historians 
commonly  teach,  but  are  consequent  on 
general  natural  causes.     The  one  case  of  the 


division  of  labor  suffices  to  show  this,  tt 
has  not  been  by  couunaud  of  any  ruler  that 
some  men  have  becoms  manufacturers  whilo 
otiiers  have  remained  cultivators  of  the  soil. 
In  Lancashire,  millions  have  devoted  them- 
selves to  the  making  of  cotton  fabrics  ;  ia 
Yorkshire,  another  niillion  lives  by  produc- 
ing woollens  ;  and  the  pottery  of  SlalTordshire.^ 
tlje  cull  ry  of  SlKllield,  the  hardware  of 
Birmingham,  severally  occupy  their  hundred.-j 
of  thousands.  These  are  large  facts  ia  thu 
structure  of  English  society  ;  but  we  cari  as- 
cribe them  neither  to  miracle  nur  to  legisla- 
tion. It  is  u>t  by  "  the  hero  as  king,"  any 
more  than  by  "  collective  wisdom,"  that  men 
have  been  segregated  into  producers,  whole 
sale  distributors,  antl  retail  distributors. 

The  whole  of  our  industrial  organization^ 
from  its  main  outlines  down  to  its  minutest 
details,  has  become  what  it  is,  not  simply 
witliJiit  legislative  guidance,  but,  to  a  con- 
suleral)le  extent,  iu  spile  of  legislative  hin- 
drances. It  has  arisen  under  the  pressure  of 
human  wants  and  activities.  While  each 
citizLU  has  bee:i  pursuing  his  individual  wel- 
fare, aud  none  taking  thought  about  division 
of  labor,  or,  indeed,  conscious  of  the  need 
for  it,  division  of  labor  has  yet  been  ever  be- 
coming more  comiilete.  It  has  been  doing 
this  slowly  and  sdenlly  ;  scatcely  any  having 
obseived  it  until  (piite  modern  times.  By 
steps  so  small,  that  year  after  year  the  in- 
dustrial arrangements  have  seemed  to  men 
just  what  they  were  before — by  changes  ad 
insensible  as  tluse  through  which  a  seed 
passes  into  a  tree— society  has  become  tho 
complex  body  of  mutually -dependent  work- 
ers wiiich  we  now  see.  And  this  economic 
organi/.ati<m,  maik,  is  the  all-essential  or- 
ganization. Tlirough  the  combination  thus 
spontaneously  evolved,  every  citizen  is  sup- 
plied with  daily  necessaries,  while  he  yields 
some  product  or  aid  to  others.  That  we  aro 
severally  alive  to-day,  we  owe  to  the  regular 
working  of  this  combination  during  the  past 
week  ;  an  1  could  it  be  suddenly  abolished,  a 
great  proportion  of  us  would  be  dead  before 
another  week  ended.  If  these  most  conspic- 
uous and  vital  arrangements  of  our  social 
structure  have  arisen  without  tiie  devising  of 
any  one,  but  through  the  individual  efforts 
of  citizens  to  satisfy  their  own  wanis,  wo 
may  be  tolerably  certain  that  the  less  impor- 
tant arrangements  have  similarly  arisen. 

"  But  surely,"  it  will  be  said,  "  the  social 
changes  directly  produced  by  law  cannot  be 
classed  as  spontaneous  growths.  When 
parliaments  or  kings  order  this  or  that  thing 
to  be  done,  aud  appoint  officials  to  do  it,  tho 
process  is  clearly  arliticial,  and  society  to 
this  extent  becomes  a  manufacture  rather 
than  a  growth."  Ko,  not  even  these cliauges 
arc  exceptions,  if  they  be  real  and  permanent 
changes.  The  true  .sources  of  such  changes 
lie  deeper  than  the  acts  of  legislators.  To 
take  first  the  simplest  instance.  We  all  know 
that  tlie  enactments  of  representative  gov- 
ernments ultimately  depend  on  the  national 
will  :  thevmay  for  a  time  be  out  of  harmony 
wilh  it,  but  eventually  they  must  conform  to 


270 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSK 


it.  And  to  say  that  the  national  wiH  finally 
determines  them  ia  to  say  lliat  tliei'  result 
from  tlie  average  of  individual  desires  ;  or, 
in  other  words,  from  the  average  of  individ- 
ual natures.  A  law  so  initiated,  therefore, 
really  grows  out  of  tiie  popular  character. 

In  the  case  of  agovL-rnnient  representing  a 
dominant  class,  the  same  tiling  lidlds,  though 
not  so  manifest]}'.  For  tiie  very  existence 
of  a  class  monopolizing  all  power  is  due  to 
certain  sentiments  in  the  coiumonally.  But 
for  the  feeling  ot  loyalty  on  llie  part  of  re- 
tainers, a  feudal  system  could  not  exist.  "We 
see  in  the  protest  of  the  Ilighlaudeis  against 
the  abolition  of  hcrilable  juiisdiclious,  tiiat 
they  preferred  that  khid  of  local  rule.  And 
if  to  the  popular  nature  must  thus  be  as- 
cribed the  growth  of  an  irresponsible  ruling 
class,  then  to  the  popular  nature  must  be 
ascribed  the  social  arrangements  which  that 
class  creates  in  the  pur.suit  of  its  own  ends. 
Even  where  the  government  is  despotic,  the 
dootiine  still  lulds.  The  cliaracler  of  the 
people  is,  as  before,  the  oiiginal  source  of 
this  political  form  ;  and,  as  we  have  abun- 
dant proof,  other  forms  suddenly  created  will 
not  act,  but  rapidly  retrograde  to  the  old 
form.  Moreover,  such  regulations  as  a  des- 
pot makes,  if  really  operative,  are  so  because 
of  their  fitness  to  the  social  state.  Ilia  acts 
being  very  much  swayed  by  general  opinion 
— by  precedent,  by  the  feeling  of  his  nobles, 
his  priesthood,  his  army — are  in  part  imme- 
diate results  of  the  national  character  ;  and 
when  they  are  out  of  haimony  with  the 
national  chaiacter  they  are  soon  practically 
abrogated. 

The  failure  of  Cromwell  permanently  to 
establish  a  new  social  condition,  and  the  rapid 
revival  of  suppressed  institutions  and  prac- 
tices after  his  death,  show  how  powerless  is 
a  monarch  to  change  the  type  of  the  society 
he  governs.  lie  may  disturb,  he  may  retard, 
or  he  may  aid  the  natural  process  of  organ- 
ization ;  but  the  general  course  of  this 
process  is  beyond  his  control.  Nay,  more 
than  this  is  true.  Those  who  regard  the  his- 
tories of  societies  as  the  hisloiies  of  their 
great  men,  and  think  that  these  great  men 
shape  the  fates  of  their  societies,  overlook 
the  truth  that  such  great  m;  n  are  the  prod- 
ucts of  their  societies.  Without  certain  an- 
tecedents, without  a  certain  average  national 
character,  they  could  neither  have"beeu  gen- 
erated nor  could  have  had  the  culture  which 
formed  them.  If  their  society  is  to  some  ex- 
tent remoulded  by  them,  they  were,  b!)th 
before  and  after  biith,  moulded  by  their  so- 
ciety— were  the  results  of  all  those  inliuences 
which  fostered  the  ancestral  character  they 
inherited,  and  gave  their  own  early  bias, 
their  creeds  moials,  knowledge,  aspirations. 
So  that  such  social  changes  as  are  immedi- 
ately traceable  to  individuals  of  unusual 
power  are  still  remotely  traceable  to  the  so- 
cial causes  which  produced  these  individ- 
uals, and  hence,  from  the  highest  point  of 
view,  such  social  changts  also  are  parts  of 
the  general  developmenial  process. 

Thus  that  which  is  so  cbvitusly  true  of 


the  Industrial  structure  of  society  is  true  of 
its  whole  structure.  The  fact  that  "  const)* 
tutions  are  not  made,  but  grow, "  is  simply  a 
fragment  of  the  much  larger  fact,  that  under 
all  its  aspects  and  through  all  its  ramifica- 
tions, society  is  a  growth  and  not  a  manu- 
facture. 

A  perception  that  there  exists  some  anal- 
ogy between  the  body  politic  and  a  living  in- 
dividu*!  body  was  early  reached,  and  from 
time  to  time  reappeared  in  literature.  But 
this  perce|)tion  was  necessarily  vague  and 
more  or  less  fanciful.  In  the  absence  of 
physiological  science,  and  especially  of  those 
comprehensive  generalizations  which  it  has 
but  recently  reached,  it  was  impossible  to 
di.scern  the  real  parallelisms. 

The  central  idea  of  Plato's  model  republic 
ia  the  correspondence  between  the  ])arls  of  a 
society  and  the  faculties  of  the  human  mind. 
Classifying  these  faculties  under  the  heads  of 
reason,  will,  and  passion,  he  classifies  the 
members  of  liis  ideal  society  under  what  he 
regards  as  three  analogous  heads  :  council- 
lors, who  arc  to  exerciae  government  ;  mili- 
tary or  executive,  who  are  to  fulfil  their  be- 
hests ;  and  the  commonalty,  bent  on  gain  and 
sellibh  graliUciilinn.  In  other  words,  the 
ruler,  the  warrior,  and  the  craftsman  are,  ac- 
cording to  him,  the  analugues  of  our  rellec- 
live,  volitional,  and  emotional  powers.  Now 
even  were  there  truth  in  the  implied  assump- 
tion of  a  parallelism  between  the  structure  of 
a  society  and  that  of  a  man,  this  classification 
would  be  indefensible.  It  might  more  truly 
be  contended  that,  as  the  military  power 
obeys  the  commands  of  the  government,  it 
is  the  governnunt  which  answers  to  the 
will  ;  while  the  military  power  is  simply  an 
agency  set  in  motion  by  it.  Or,  again,  it 
might  be  contended  that  whereas  the  will  is 
a  product  of  predominant  desires,  to  which 
the  reason  serves  merely  as  an  eye,  it  is  the 
craftsmen,  who,  according  to  the  alleged 
analogy,  ought  to  be  the  moving  power  of 
the  warriois. 

Ilobbts  sought  to  establish  a  still  more 
definite  parallelism  :  not,  however,  between  a 
society  and  the  human  mind,  but  between  a 
society  and  the  ht:man  body.  In  the  intro- 
rl notion  to  the  woik  in  which  he  develops 
this  conception,  he  says  : 

"  For  by  art  is  created  that  grefit  Levia- 
than called  a  CoMMONWEAi/rii,  or  State,  in 
Latin  Civitas,  which  is  but  an  artificial 
man  ;  though  of  greater  stature  and  strength 
than  the  natural,  for  whose  protection  and 
defence  it  was  intended,  and  in  which  the 
sovereignity  is  an  artificial  soul,  as  giving  life 
and  motion  to  the  whole  body  ;  the  magis- 
trates and  ether  officers  of  judicature  and  ex- 
ecution, axt'i^c'ial  joints  ;  Tcicard  andpunisli- 
ment,  by  which,  fastened  to  the  seat  of  the 
sovereignty,  every  joint  and  member  is 
moved  to  perform  his  duty,  are  the  nerves, 
that  do  the  same  in  the  body  natural  ;  the 
wealth  and  riches  of  all  the  particular  mem- 
bers are  the  strength  ;  salus  populi,  the  peo- 
ple's safety,  its  bi/siness  ;  counsellors,  by  whom 
all  things  needful  for  it  to  know  are  su<':- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW   AND    CAUSE. 


271 


gested  unto  it,  are  the  memory  ;  equity  and 
laws,Q.vi  artificial  reason  and  to  ill ;  concord, 
health  ;  sedition,  sickness ;  cidlicnr,  death." 

And  Hobijes  carries  this  comparison  so  far 
as  actually  to  give  a  drawing  of  the  Levi- 
athan— a  vast  liuraan-shaped  figure,  whose 
body  and  limbs  are  made  up  of  multitudes 
of  men.  Just  noting  that  these  different 
analogies  asserted  i)y  Plato  and  Hobbes 
serve  to  cancel  each  ether  (being,  as  they  are, 
so  completely  at  variance),  we  may  say  that 
on  the  whole  those  of  Ilubbes  are  the  more 
plausible.  But  they  are  full  of  mconsisten- 
C'ies.  If  the  sovcreigntj'  is  tl:e  soul  of  the 
body  politic,  how  can  it  be  that  magistrates, 
who  are  kind  of  d(put3--soverei{:us,  should  be 
comparable  to  joints?  Or,  again,  how  can 
the  three  mental  functions,  memory,  reason, 
and  will,  be  severally  analogous,  the  first  10 
counsellors,  who  are  a  class  of  public  offi- 
cers, and  the  other  two  to  equity  and  laws, 
which  are  not  classes  of  officers,  but  abstrac- 
tions ?  Or,  once  more,  if  magistrates  are  the 
artificial  jomts  of  society,  how  can  reward 
and  punishment  be  its  nerves?  Its  nerves 
miist  surely  be  some  class  of  persons.  Re- 
ward and  punishment  must,  in  societies  as 
in  individuals,  be  conditions  of  the  nerves, 
and  not  the  nerves  themselves. 

But  the  chief  errors  of  these  comparisons 
made  by  Plato  and  Ilobbes  lie  much  deeper. 
Both  tliinkers  assume  that  the  organization 
of  a  society  is  comparable,  not  simply  to  the 
organization  of  :i  living  body  in  general,  but 
to  tiie  organization  of  the  human  body  in 
particular.  There  is  no  warrant  whatever 
for  assuming  this.  It  is  in  no  way  implied 
by  the  evidence  ;  and  is  simply  one  of  tho.se 
fancies  which  we  commonly  find  mixed  up 
with  the  truths  of  early  speculation.  Still 
more  erroneous  are  the  two  conceptions  in 
this,  that  they  construe  a  society  as  an  ar- 
tificial structure.  Plato's  model  republic — 
his  ideal  of  a  healthful  body  politic — is  to  be 
consciously  put  together  by  men,  just  as  a 
watch  might  be  ;  and  I'lato  manifestly  thinks 
of  societies  iu  general  as  thus  originated. 
Quite  specifically  does  Hobbes  express  this 
view.  "For  hy  art."  he  says,  "is  created 
that  great  Levi.\tiian  called  a  Common- 
WE.VLTn."  And  he  even  goes  so  far  as  to 
compare  the  supposed  social  contract,  from 
which  a  society  suddenly  originates,  to  the 
creation  of  a  man  by  tlie  divine  fiat.  Thus 
they  both  fall  into  the  extreme  inconsistency 
of  considering  a  comtnunity  as  similar  in 
structure  to  a  human  being,  and  yet  as  pro- 
duced in  the  same  way  as  an  artificial  me- 
chanism—in nature,  an  organism  ;  in  history, 
a  machine. 

Notwitlistanding  errors,  however,  these 
speculations  have  considerable  significance. 
That  such  analogies,  crudely  as  they  are 
thought  out,  should  have  been  alleged  by 
Plato  and  Hobbes  and  many  others,  is  a 
reason  for  suspecting  that  some  analogy  ex- 
ists. The  untenableness  of  the  particular 
comparisons  above  instanced  is  no  ground 
for  denying  an  essential  parallelism  ;  for 
«arly  ideas  are  usually  but  vague  adumbra- 


tions of  the  truth.  Lacking  the  great  gen- 
eralizations of  biology,  it  was,  as  we  have 
said,  impossible  to  trace  out  the  real  relations 
of  social  organizations  to  organizations  of 
another  order.  We  propose  here  to  show 
what  are  the  analogies  which  modern  sci- 
ence discloses  to  us. 

Let  us  set  out  by  succinctly  stating  the 
points  of  similarity  and  the  points  of  differ- 
ence. Societies  agree  with  individual  organ- 
isms in  four  conspicuous  peculiarities  : 

1.  That,  commencing  as  .small  aggrega- 
tions, they  insensibly  augment  in  mass  ; 
some  of  them  eventually  reaching  tea  thou- 
sand times  what  they  originally  were. 

2.  That  while  at  first  so  simple  in  struc- 
ture as  to  be  considered  structureless,  they 
a.ssume,  in  the  course  of  their  growth,  a  con 
tinnally-increasing  ci)mi)lexity  of  structure. 

3.  That  though  in  their  early,  undeveloped 
states  there  exi.sts  in  them  scarcely  any  mu- 
tual dependence  of  parts,  their  parts  grad- 
ually acquire  a  mutual  dependence,  which 
becomes  at  last  so  gieat  that  the  activity 
and  life  of  each  part  is  made  possible  only 
by  the  activity  and  life  of  the  rest. 

•1.  That  the  life  and  development  of  a  so- 
ciety is  independent  of,  anil  far  more  pro- 
longed than,  the  life  and  development  of  any 
of  its  comp  uent  units  :  who  are  severally 
born,  grow,  work,  reproduce,  and  die,  while 
the  body  politic  composed  of  them  survives 
generation  after  generation,  increasing  in 
mass,  completeness  of  structure,  and  func- 
tional activity. 

Tiie.se  four  parallelisms  will  appear  the 
more  significant  the  more  we  contemplate 
them.  While  the  points  specified  are  points 
in  which  societies  agree  with  individual  or- 
ganisms, they  are  points  in  which  individual 
organisms  agree  with  each  other,  and  dis- 
agree with  all  things  else.  In  the  course  of  its 
existence,  every  plant  and  animal  increases 
in  mass,  in  a  way  not  paralleled  by  inor- 
ganic objects  :  even  such  inorganic  objects 
as  crystals,  which  arise  by  growth,  show  us 
no  .such  definite  relation  between  growth  and 
existence  as  organisms  do.  The  orderly 
progress  from  simplicity  to  complexity,  dis- 
played l)y  bodies  politic  in  common  with  all 
living  bodies,  is  a  characteristic  which  dis- 
tinguishes living  l)odies  from  the  inanimate 
bodies  amid  which  they  move.  That  func- 
tional dependence  of  parts  which  is  .scarcely 
more  manifest  in  animals  or  plants  than  na- 
tions, has  no  counterpart  elsewhere.  And  in 
no  aggregate  except  an  organic  or  a  social 
one  is  there  a  perpetual  removal  and  replace- 
ment of  parts,  joined  with  a  continued  integ- 
rity of  the  whole. 

Moreover,  societies  and  organisms  are  not 
only  alike  in  these  peculiarities,  iu  which 
they  are  unlike  all  other  things  ;  but  the 
highest  societies,  like  the  highest  organisms, 
exhibit  them  in  the  greatest  degree.  We  see 
that  the  lowest  animals  do  not  increase  to 
anything  like  the  sizes  of  the  higher  ones  ; 
and,  similarly,  we  see  that  aboriginal  soci- 
eties are  comparatively  limited  in  their 
growth*.     In  complexity,  our  large  civilized 


272 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAAV   AXD   CAUSE. 


nations  as  much  exceed  primitive  savage 
tribes,  as  a  verlot)rate  animal  does  a  zooi)liyle. 
Simple  communitie-*,  lil<e  simple  creatiireiJ, 
iiave  so  little  mutual  depeuilence  of  parts 
liiat  suixlivisiou  or  mutilation  causes  but  lit- 
tle inconvenience  ;  but  from  complex  com- 
munities, as  from  complex  creatures,  you 
canuot  remove  auy  considerable  organ  ■with- 
out producing  great  disturbance  or  death  of 
the  rest.  And  in  societies  of  low  tj'pe,  as  in 
inferior  animals,  the  life  of  the  aggregate, 
often  cut  short  by  division  or  dissohuion,  ex- 
ceeds in  length  the  lives  of  the  component 
units,  very  far  less  than  in  civilized  commu- 
nities and  superior  animals  ;  which  outlive 
many  generations  of  their  component  units. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  leading  dilferenccs 
between  societies  and  individual  organisms 
are  these  : 

1.  That  societies  have  no  specific  external 
forms.  This,  however,  is  a  point  of  contrast 
which  loses  much  of  its  importance,  when 
"we  remember  that  throughout  the  vegetal 
kingdom,  as  well  as  in  some  lower  divisions 
of  the  animal  kingilom,  the  forms  are  often 
verj'  indefinite — deliniteness  being  rather  the 
exception  than  tlie  rule  ;  and  that  they  are 
manifestly  in  part  determined  by  surround- 
ing physical  circumstances,  a-*  the  forms  of 
societies  are.  If,  too,  it  should  eventually  be 
shown,  as  we  believe  it  will,  that  the  form 
of  every  species  of  organism  has  resulted 
from  the  average  play  of  the  externul  forces 
to  which  it  has  been  sul)ject  during  its  evo- 
lution as  a  species,  then,  that  the  external 
forms  of  societies  should  depend,  as  they  do 
on  surrounding  conditions,  will  be  a  further 
point  of  community. 

2.  That  though  the  living  tissue  "whereof 
an  individual  organism  consists  forms  a  con- 
tinuous mass,  the  living  elements  of  a  society 
do  not  form  a  continuous  mass,  but  arc 
more  or  less  widely  dispersed  over  some  por- 
tion of  the  earth's  surface.  This,  which  at 
first  sight  appears  to  be  a  fundamental  dis- 
tinction, is  one  which  yet  to  a  great  extent 
disappears  when  we  contemplate  all  the 
facts.  For,  in  the  lower  divisions  of  the  ani- 
mal and  vegetal  kingdoms,  there  are  types  of 
organization  much  more  neatly  allied,  in 
this  respect,  to  the  organization  of  a  society, 
than  might  be  supposed — types  in  which  tlie 
living  units  essentially  composing  the  mass 
are  dispersed  through  an  inert  .substance, 
that  can  scarcely  be  called  living  in  the  full 
sense  of  the  word.  It  is  thus  with  some  of 
the  Protococci  and  with  the  jS'ostoccoi,  which 
exist  as  cells  imbedded  in  a  viscid  matter.  It 
is  so,  too,  with  the  ThalamMllw—hodies 
that  are  made  up  of  differentiated  parts,  dis- 
persed through  an  undifferentiated  jelly. 
And  throughout  considerable  portions  of 
their  bodies,  some  of  the  Acalephce  exhibit 
more  or  less  distinctly  this  type  of  structure. 

Indeed,  it  may  be  contended  that  this  is 
the  primitive  form  of  all  organization  ;  see- 
ing that,  even  in  the  highest  creatures,  as  in 
ourselves,  every  tissue  develops  out  of  what 
piiysiologi.sts  call  a  blastema— an  unorgan- 
ized though  organ izable  substance,  through 


which  organic  points  are  distributed.  Now 
this  is  very  muc  h  the  case  with  a  society. 
For  we  must  remember  that  though  the  men 
who  make  up  u  society  are  physically  tejta- 
rate  and  even  scattered,  j'et  that  the  surface 
over  which  they  are  scattered  is  net  one  de- 
void of  life,  but  is  covered  by  life  of  u  lower 
order  which  ministers  to  their  life.  The  veg- 
etation which  clothes  a  country  makes  pos- 
sible the  animal  life  in  that  country  ;  and 
only  through  its  animal  and  vegetal  product.^ 
can  such  a  country  support  a  human  socierj'. 
Hence  the  members  of  the  body  poliiic  are 
not  to  be  regarded  as  separated  by  intervals 
of  dead  space,  but  as  diffused  through  a 
space  occuj»ied  by  life  of  a  lower  order.  In 
our  conception  of  a  social  organism  we  must 
include  all  that  lower  organic  existence  ou 
which  human  existence,  and  therefore  social 
existence,  depends.  And  when  we  do  this, 
we  see  that  the  citizens  whonuike  up  a  c(  m- 
niunity  may  be  considered  as  highly  vital- 
ized units  surrouniled  by  substances  if  lower 
vitality,  frcni  which  they  draw  tlieir  nutri- 
ment :  much  as  in  the  casts  above  instanced. 
Thus,  wlien  examined,  this  apjtartut  distinc- 
tion in  great  pait  di.sapi)earb. 

3.  Thai  while  the  ultimate  living  elements 
of  an  individual  organism,  are  mostly  fixeii 
in  their  relative  positions,  those  of  the  social 
organism  are  capable  of  moving  from  place 
to  place,  seems  a  marked  disagreement.  But 
here,  too,  the  disagreement  is  much  less 
than  would  l»e  supposed.  For  while  citizens 
are  locrniotive  in  their  private  capacities, 
they  are  lixed  in  their  public  capacities.  As 
farmeis,  manufacturers,  or  traders,  mea 
carry  on  their  business  at  the  same  spots, 
often  throughout  their  "whole  lives  ;  and  if 
they  go  away  occasionally,  they  leave  behind 
others  to  di.'^charge  their  functions  in  their 
absence.  Each  great  centre  of  production, 
each  manufacturing  town  or  district,  con- 
tinues always  iu  the  same  place  ;  and  many 
of  the  firms  in  such  town  or  distiict  are  for 
generatiuns  carried  on  either  by  the  descend- 
ants or  successors  of  those  who  founded 
them.  Just  as  in  a  living  b(idy,  the  cells 
that  make  up  some  important  organ,  severally 
perform  their  functions  for  a  time  and  theu 
disappear,  leaving  others  to  supply  their 
places  ;  so,  in  each  part  of  a  society,  the  or- 
gan remains,  though  the  persons  who  com- 
l)Ose  it  change.  Thus,  in  social  life  as  in  the 
life  of  an  animal,  the  units  as  well  as  the 
larger  agencies  formed  of  them,  are  in  the 
main  stationary  as  respects  the  places  "nhere 
the}'  discharge  their  duties  and  obtain  their 
sustenance.  And  hence  the  power  of  indi- 
vidual locomotion  does  not  practically  affect 
the  analog}'. 

4.  The  last  and  perhaps  the  most  impor- 
tant distinction  is,  that  while  in  the  body  of 
an  animal,  only  a  special  tissue  is  endowed 
with  feeling,  in  a  society  all  the  members 
are  endowed  with  feeling.  Even  this  distinc- 
tion, however,  is  by  no  means  a  complete 
one.  For  in  some  of  the  lowest  animals, 
characterized  b}'  the  absence  of  a  nervous 
system,  such  sensitiveness  as  exists  is  pos- 


PROGRESS:   ITS   LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


373 


Bessed  by  all  parts.  It  is  only  in  the  more 
organized  forms  that  feeling  is  monopolized 
by  one  class  of  the  vital  elements.  Moreover, 
we  must  remember  that  societies,  too,  are  not 
•without  a  certain  differentiation  of  this  kind. 
Though  the  units  of  a  community  are  all  sen- 
sitiver  yet  they  are  so  in  unequal  degrees. 
The  classes  engaged  in  agriculture  and  labo- 
rious occupations  in  general  are  much  less 
susceptible,  intellectually  and  emotionally, 
than  the  rest  ;  and  especially  less  so  than  the 
classes  of  highest  mental  culture.  Still,  we 
have  here  a  tolerably  decided  contrast  be- 
tween bodies  politic  and  individual  bodies. 
And  it  is  one  which  we  should  keep  con- 
stantly in  view.  For  it  reminds  us  that 
while  m  individual  bodies  the  welfare  of  all 
other  parts  is  rightly  subservient  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  nervous  system,  whose  pleasur- 
able or  painful  activities  make  up  the  good 
or  evil  of  life  ;  in  bodies  politic  the  same 
thing  does  not  hold,  or  holds  to  but  a  very 
slight  extent.  It  is  well  that  the  lives  of  all 
parts  of  an  animal  should  be  merged  in  the 
life  of  the  whole  ;  because  the  whole  has  a 
corporate  consciousness  capable  of  happiness 
or  misery.  But  it  is  not  so  with  a  society, 
since  its  living  units  do  not  and  cannot  lost* 
individual  consciousness,  and  since  the  com- 
munity as  a  whole  has  no  corporate  conscious- 
ness. And  this  is  an  everlasting  reason 
why  the  welfare  of  citizens  cannot  rightiy  be 
sacrificed  to  some  supposed  benefit  of  the 
state,  but  why,  on  the  other  haiul,  the  state 
is  to  be  maintained  solely  for  the  benefit  of 
citizens.  The  corporate  life  must  hero  bo 
subservient  t')  tlie  lives  of  the  part?,  instead 
of  the  lives  of  the  parts  being  subservient  to 
the  corporate  life. 

Such,  then,  are  the  points  of  analogy  and 
the  points  of  difference,  May  we  mjt  say 
that  the  points  of  difference  sen'c  but  to 
bring  into  clearer  light  the  points  of  analogy? 
"While  comparison  makes  definite  the  obvious 
contrasts  between  organi.sms  commonly  so 
called,  and  the  social  organism,  it  shows 
that  even  these  contrasts  are  not  so  decided 
as  was  to  be  expected.  The  indefiniteness 
of  form,  the  discontinuity  of  the  parts,  the 
mobility  of  the  parts,  and  the  universal  sensi- 
tiveness, are  not  only  peculiarities  of  the 
social  organism  which  have  to  be  stated  with 
considerable  qualifications,  but  they  are 
peculiarities  to  which  the  inferior  classes  of 
animals  present  approximations.  Thus  wo 
find  but  little  to  conllict  with  the  all-impor- 
lant  analogies  That  societies  slowly  augment 
iu  mass  ;  that  they  progress  in  complexity  of 
structure  ;  that  at  the  same  time  tluir  parts 
become  more  mutually  dependent  ;  that  their 
living  units  are  removed  and  replaced  with- 
out destroying  their  integrity  ;  and  further, 
that  the  extents  to  which  they  display  these 
peculiarities  are  proportionate  to  their  vital 
activities  ;  are  traits  that  societies  have  in 
common  with  organic  bodies.  And  these 
traits  in  which  they  agree  with  organic  bodies 
and  disagree  with  all  other  things — these 
traits  wiiicli  in  truth  specially  characterize 
organic  bodies,  entirely  subordinate  the  minor 


distinctions  :  such  distinctions  being  scarcely 
greater  than  those  which  separate  one  half  of 
the  organic  kingdom  from  the  other.  The 
principli's  of  organization  are  the  same  ;  and 
the  dilforences  are  simply  differences  of  ap- 
plication. 

Here  euding  this  general  survey  of  the 
facts  which  justify  the  comparison  of  a 
society  to  a  living  body,  let  us  look  at  them 
in  detail.  We  shall  find  that  the  parallelism 
becomes  the  more  marked  the  more  closely  it 
is  traced. 

The  lowest  animal  and  vegetal  forms — 
Protor.ihi  and  I'rolopltyUi — are  chiefly  in- 
habitants of  the  water.  They  are  minute 
bodies,  most  of  which  are  made  individually 
visible  only  by  the  microscope.  All  of  them 
are  extremely  simple  in  structure  ;  ami  some 
of  them,  as  the  li/u'zopods,  almost  structure- 
less. Multiplying,  as  they  ordinarily  do,  by 
the  spontaneous  division  of  their  bodies,  they 
produce  halves,  which  may  either  become 
quite  sepaiate  and  move  away  in  different 
directions,  or  may  continue  attached.  By 
the  repeliiion  of  this  processof  fission,  aggre- 
gations of  various  sizes  and  kinds  are  formed. 
Among  the  Protopltijta  we  have  some  classes, 
as  the  Diatoimicem  and  the  yeast- plant,  in 
which  the  individuals  may  be  either  separate 
or  attached  in  groups  of  two,  three,  four,  or 
more  ;  other  classes  in  which  a  considerable 
number  of  individual  cells  are  united  into  a 
threiul  {Conferva,  Afouilia)  ;  others  iu  which 
they  form  a  net-work  (llydrndidyon)  ;  otlier.s 
in  which  tliey  form  plates (f7'/»a)  ;  and  others 
in  which  they  form  masses  {Luminaria, 
A'jaricuH) :  all  which  vegetal  forms,  having 
no  distinction  of  root,  stem,  or  leaf,  are 
called  T/iallogcns.  Among  the  Protozoa  we 
find  parallel  facts.  Immense  numbers  of 
AnKubii-Vikti  creatures,  massed  together  in  a 
framework  of  horny  fibres,  constitute 
sponge.  In  the  Formninifera,  we  see  smaller 
groups  of  such  creatures  arranged  into  more 
definite  shapes.  Not  only  do  these  almost 
t-tructureless  Protozoa  unite  into  regular  or 
irregular  aggregations  of  various  sizes,  but 
among  some  of  the  more  organized  ones,  as 
the  VorticelUf,  there  are  also  produced  clus- 
ters of  individuals,  proceeding  from  a  com- 
mon stock.  But  these  little  societies  of 
monads,  or  cells,  or  whatever  el.se  we  may 
call  them,  are  societies  only  in  the  lowest 
sense  :  there  is  no  subordination  of  j)art3 
among  them — no  organization.  Each  of  the 
com[)onent  units  lives  by  and  for  itself, 
neither  giving  nor  receiving  aid.  There  is  no 
mutual  dependence,  save  that  consequent  ou 
mere  mechanical  union. 

Now  do  we  not  liere  discern  analogies  to 
the  first  stages  of  humun  societies  ?  Among 
the  lowest  races,  as  the  bushmen,  we  find 
but  incipient  aggregation — sometimes  single 
families,  sometimes  two  or  three  families 
wandering  about  together.  The  numiier  of 
associated  units  is  small  and  variable,  and 
their  union  inconstant.  No  division  of  labor 
exist?  except  between  the  sexes  ;  and  the  only 
kind  of  mutuiil  aid  is  that  of  joint  attack  or 
defence.     We  sec  ncthing  beyond  an  undif- 


274 


PROGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND    CAUSE. 


ferentiated  group  of  iDilividuals,  formint?  the 
germ  of  a  society  ;  just  as  in  the  homogene- 
ous grou^)S  of  cells  above  described  we  see 
only  the  initial  stage  of  animal  and  vegetal 
orgiiuization. 

The  comparison  may  now  be  carried  a  step 
higlior.  In  the  vegetal  kingdom  we  pass 
from  the  Thallogens,  cousistmg  of  mere 
masses  of  similar  cells,  to  the  Acrogetut,  in 
which  the  cells  are  not  similar  throughout 
the  whole  mass  ;  but  are  here  aggregated 
into  a  structure  serving  as  leaf,  and  there 
into  a  structure  serving  as  root,  thus  form- 
ing a  whole  in  which  there  is  a  certain  sul)- 
division  of  functions  among  the  units,  and 
therefore  a  certain  mutual  dependence.  In 
the  animal  kingdom  we  tind  analogous  prog- 
ress. From  mere  imorganized  groups  of 
cells,  or  cell-like  bodies,  we  ascend  to  groups 
of  such  cells  arranged  into  parts  that  have 
different  duties.  The  common  Polype,  from 
whoso  substance  may  be  separated  individual 
cells  which  exhibit,  when  detached,  appear- 
ances and  movements  like  those  of  the  soli 
tary  Ainvcha,  illustrates  this  stage.  The  com- 
ponent units,  lliough  still  showing  great 
community  of  character,  assume  somewhat 
diverse  functions  in  the  skin,  in  the  internal 
surface,  and  in  the  tentacles.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  "  physiological  division  of 
labor." 

Turning  to  societies,  we  find  theso  stages 
parallel  in  the  majority  of  aborigiual  tribes. 
When,  instead  of  such  small  variable  groups 
as  are  foruK-d  by  bushmeu,  we  come  to  the 
hirger  and  more  permanent  groups  formed 
by  savages  n  it  quite  so  low,  W3  begin  to  tind 
traces  of  social  structure.  Though  industrial 
organization  scarcely  snows  itself,  except  in 
the  different  occupations  of  the  .se.ves,  yet 
there  is  always  more  or  less  of  i:overnmenlal 
organization.  While  all  the  men  are  war- 
riors and  hunters,  only  a  part  of  them  are 
included  in  tiie  council  of  chiefs  ;  and  in  this 
council  of  chiefs  some  one  has  commonly 
supreme  authority.  There  is  thus  a  certain 
distinction  of  classes  and  powers  ;  and 
through  this  slight  specialization  of  func- 
tions is  effected  a  rude  co-operation  among 
the  increasing  mass  of  individuals,  whenever 
the  society  h<vs  to  act  in  its  corporate  capac- 
ity. Be3'ond  this  analogy  in  the  slight  ex- 
tent to  which  organization  is  carried,  there 
is  analogy  in  the  indetiniteness  of  the  organ- 
ization. In  the  Hydra,  the  respective  parts 
of  the  creature's  substance  have  many  func- 
tions iu  common.  They  are  all  contractile  ; 
omitting  the  tentacles,  the  whole  of  the  ex- 
ternal surface  can  give  origin  to  young 
Hydros,  ;  and  when  turned  inside  out,  stomach 
performs  the  duties  of  skin,  and  skin  the 
duties  of  stomach.  In  aboriginal  societies, 
such  differentiations  as  exist  are  similarly 
imperfect.  Notwithstanding  distinctions  of 
rank,  all  persons  maintain  themselves  by 
their  own  exertions.  Not  only  do  the  head 
men  of  the  tribe,  in  common  with  the  rest, 
build  their  own  huts,  make  their  own  weap- 
ons, kill  their  own  food,  but  the  chief  does 
the  like.     Moreover,  iu  the  ludcsl  of  these 


tribes  such  governmental  organization  as  ex- 
ists is  very  inconstant.  It  is  frequently 
changed  by  violence  or  treachery,  and  the 
function  of  ndiug  assumed  by  other  mem 
bers  of  the  community.  Thus  between  the 
rudest  societies  and  some  of  the  lowest  forms 
of  animal  life  there  is  analogy  alike  in  the 
slight  extent  to  which  organization  is  curried, 
in  the  indetiniteness  of  this  organization,  and 
in  its  want  of  fixity. 

A  further  complication  of  the  analogy  is  at 
hand.  From  the  aggregation  of  units  into 
organized  groups,  we  pass  to  the  multiplica- 
tion of  such  groups,  and  their  coalescence 
into  compound  groups.  The  Hydra,  when  it 
has  reached  a  <  ertain  bulk,  puts  foith  fiom 
its  f-uiface  a  bud,  which,  giuwing  and  grad- 
ually' assuming  the  form  of  the  parent,  finally 
becomes  detached  ;  and  b\'  this  process  of 
gemmation  the  creature  peoples  the  adjacent 
water  with  otlicrs  like  itself.  A  parallel  pro- 
cess is  seen  in  the  multiplication  of  those 
lowly-organized  tribes  above  described.  One 
of  them  having  increased  1o  a  size  that  is 
either  too  great  for  co-ordination  under  so 
rude  a  structure,  or  else  that  is  greater  than 
tlie  surrounding  couutrj'  can  supply  with 
game  and  other  wild  food,  there  aiises  a 
tendency  to  divide  ;  and  as  in  such  commu- 
nities there  are  ever-occurring  quarrels,  jeal- 
ousies, and  other  causes  of  division,  there 
soon  comes  an  occasion  on  which  a  part  of 
the  tribe  heparates  under  tlie  leadership  of 
some  sul'or(;inate  thief,  and  migiates.  Tliis 
process  being  fiom  time  to  time  repeated,  an 
extensive  region  is  at  length  occupied  with 
numerous  sepaiate  tribes  descended  from  a 
common  anttstry.  The  analogy  by  no 
means  ends  here.  Though  iu  the  common 
Hydra,  the  j'ouugones  that  budont  from  the 
patent  soon  become  detached  and  indepen- 
dent, yet  throughout  the  rest  of  the  class 
Jlydrozoa,  to  which  this  cieature  belongs,  the 
like  does  not  generally  happen.  The  succes- 
sive individuals  thus  developed  continue 
attached,  give  origin  to  other  such  individ- 
uals which  also  continue  attached,  and  so 
there  results  a  compound  animal.  As  in  the 
Hydra  itself,  we  find  an  ajigregation  of  units 
which,  cfinsidered  stparaiely,  are  akin  to  the 
lowest  I*ioti/zoa  ;  so  here,  iu  a  Zoophyte,  we 
find  an  aggregation  of  such  aggregations. 
The  like  is  al.so  seen  throughout  the  extensive 
family  of  Folyzoa  or  Moiluncoida.  The  ascid- 
ian  mollusks,  too,  in  their  many  varied 
forms,  show  us  the  same  thing  :  exhibiting 
at  the  same  time  various  degrees  of  union 
subsisting  among  the  ccmponent  individuals. 
For  while  in  the  salpa  the  component  indi- 
viduals adhere  so  slightly  that  a  blow  on  the 
vessel  of  water  in  which  they  are  floating 
will  separate  them  ;  in  the  BotrylUda:  there 
exists  a  vascular  connection  between  them, 
and  a  common  circulation. 

Now  in  these  vaiious  forms  and  degrees  of 
aggregation,  may  we  not  see  paralleled  the 
union  of  groups  of  connate  tribts  into 
nations?  Though  in  regions  where  circum- 
stances permit,  the  separate  tribes  descended 
from  some  original  tribe,  migrate  in  all  direc- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


275 


lions  and  bfct  me  far  removed  and  quite  sep- 
arate ;  yel.  in  olber  cases,  wheie  llie  teirilory 
presents  Imiriers  to  distant  migration,  this 
di)cs  nut  happen  :  tbe  small  kindred  com- 
miiniiies  are  held  in  closer  contact,  and 
eventually  become  more  or  less  united  into  a 
nation.  The  contract  belwten  the  tribes  of 
American  Indians  and  the  Scottish  clans 
illustrates  this.  And  a  glance  at  our  own 
early  history,  or  the  early  histories  of  conti- 
nental  nations,  shows  this  fusion  of  s^niall 
simple  communities  taking  place  in  various 
ways  and  to  various  extents.  As  says  M. 
Guizot,  in  his  history  of  "  The  Origin  of  Rep- 
resentative Government," 

"  By  degrees,  in  the  midst  of  tlie  chaos  of 
the  rising  society,  small  aggregations  are 
formed  which  feel  the  want  of  alliance  and 
union  with  each  other.  .  .  .  Sjou  in- 
equality of  strength  is  displayed  among 
neigbboriug  aggregations.  Tlie  strong  tend 
to  subjugate  the  weak,  and  usurp  at  Hist  the 
rights  of  taxation  and  military  service. 
Thus  political  authority  leaves  the  aggrega- 
tions which  first  instituted  it,  to  take  a  wider 
range." 

That  is  to  say,  the  small  tribes,  clans,  or 
feudal  unions,  .spruuir  mostly  from  a  comuum 
stuck,  and  long  held  in  contact  as  occupants 
of  adjacent  lands,  gradually  get  united  in 
other  ways  than  by  mere  adhesion  of  race 
and  proximit}'. 

A  further  seiies  of  changes  liegins  now  to 
take  place  ;  to  which,  as  before,  we  shall  find 
analogies  in  individual  organisms.  Return- 
ing again  to  the  JIi/dio:o<i,vm  oiwerve  tbat  in 
the  simplest  of  the  compound  forms,  the 
connected  individuals  developed  from  a  com- 
mon stock,  are  alike  in  structure,  and  per- 
form like  functions  :  with  the  exception,  in- 
deed, that  here  and  there  a  bud,  instead  of 
developing  into  a  stomach,  mouth,  and  ten- 
tacles, becomes  an  egg-sac.  Rut  with  the 
oceanic  Ilydrozon,  this  is  by  no  means  the 
case.  In  the  Vali/rophonda:,  some  of  tho 
polyps  growing  from  the  comnioa  germ 
become  developed  and  modified  into  large, 
long,  sack  -  like  bodies,  which  by  their 
rhythmical  contractions  move  through  tho 
water,  dragging  the  community  of  polyps 
after  them.  In  the  Phy><ophorid(t,  a  vr.riety 
of  organs  similarly  arise  by  transformation 
of  the  bulding  polyps  ;  so  that  in  creatures 
like  tbe  Physalia,  commonly  known  as  the 
"Portuguese  man-of-war,"  instead  of  that 
tree-like  group  of  similar  individuals  form- 
ing tlie  original  type  of  the  class,  we  have  a 
complex  mass  of  unlike  parts  fulfilling  un- 
like duiic-;.  As  an  individual //.ycZ/'w  may  be 
regarded  as  a  gioup  of  Protozoa  which  iiave 
become  paaiaby  metamorphosed  into  differ- 
ent organs,  so  a  Physaliaia,  morphologically 
considered,  a  group  of  hydiae  of  which  the 
individuals  have  been  vai'iously  transformed 
to  fit  them  for  various  functions. 

This  differentiation  upon  differentiation  is 
just  what  takes  place  in  the  evolution  of  a 
civilized  society.  We  observed  how,  in  the 
sniall  communities  first  formed,  tlieie  arises 
u  ceiiain  simple  political  organization — there 


is  a  partial  separation  of  classos  liaving  dif- 
ferent duties.  And  now  we  have  to  observe 
how,  in  a  nation  formed  by  the  fusion  of 
such  small  communities,  the  several  sections, 
at  first  alike  in  structures  and  modes  of  activ- 
ity, gradually  become  unlike  in  both — grad- 
ually become  mutually  -  dependent  parts, 
diverse  in  their  natures  and  functions. 

The  doctrine  of  tbe  progressive  division  of 
labor,  to  which  we  are  here  introduced,  is 
familiar  to  all  readers.  And  further,  the 
analogy  between  tbe  economical  division  of 
laborand  tbe  "  physiological  division  of 
labor,"  is  so  striking,  as  long  since  to  have 
drawn  the  atteniiun  of  scientific  naturalists  : 
so  striking,  indeed,  that  tbe  expression 
"physiological  division  of  labor,"  has  been 
suggested  by  it.  It  is  not  needful,  therefore, 
tbat  we  should  treat  this  part  of  our  subject 
in  great  detail.  We  shall  content  ourselves 
with  noting  a  few  general  and  significant 
facts,  not  manifest  on  a  first  inspection. 

Throughout  tlie  whole  animal  kingdom, 
from  the  Cielenierala  upward,  tbe  first  stage 
of  evolution  is  tbe  same.  Equally  in  tbe 
germ  of  a  polyp  and  in  the  human  ovum, 
the  aggiegated  mass  of  cells  out  of  which  tbe 
creature  is  to  arise  gives  origin  to  a  periph- 
eral layer  of  cells,  slightly  differing  from  the 
rest  which  they  include  ;  and  liiis  layer  sub- 
sequently divides  into  two — the  inner,  lying 
in  contact  with  tbe  included  yelk,  being 
called  the  mucous  layer,  and  the  outer,  ex- 
posed to  surrounding  agencies,  being  called 
tbe  serous  layer  ;  or,  in  the  terms  used  by 
Professor  Huxley,  in  describing  the  develop- 
ment of  tbe  Ilydrozoa — the  endoderm  and 
ectoderm.  This  primary  division  marks  out 
a  fundamental  contrast  of  paits  in  the  future 
organism  From  the  mucous  layer,  or  en- 
doderm, is  developed  the  apparatus  of  nu- 
trition ;  while  from  the  serous  layer,  or  ecto- 
derm, is  developed  tbe  apparatus  of  external 
action.  Out  of  tbe  one  arisrC  tbe  organs  by 
whicb  food  is  prepared  and  absorbed,  oxygen 
imbibed,  and  blood  purified  ;  while  out  of 
the  other  arise  tbe  nervous,  muscular,  and 
osseous  systems,  by  whose  combined  actions 
the  movements  of  the  body  as  a  whole  are 
effected.  Though  this  is  not  a  rigorously 
correct  distinction,  seeing  tbat  some  organs 
involve  both  of  these  primitive  membranes, 
yet  high  authorities  agree  in  staling  it  as  a 
broad  general  distinction. 

Well,  in  the  evolution  of  a.  society  we  see 
a  primary  differentiation  of  analogous  kind, 
which  similarly  underlies  the  whole  future 
structure.  As  alieady  pointed  out,  the  only 
manifest  contrast  of  parts  in  primitive  soci- 
eties is  that  between  the  governing  and  the 
governed.  In  the  least  organized  tribes,  the 
council  of  chiefs  may  be  a  body  of  men  dis- 
tinguished simply  by  greater  courage  or  ex- 
perience. In  more  organized  tribes,  the 
chief-class  is  definitely  se[)arated  from  tbe 
lower  class,  and  often  regarded  as  different 
in  nature  —  sometimes  as  god  descended. 
And  later,  we  find  these  two  becoming  re- 
spectively freemen  and  slaves,  or  nobles  and 
serfs.     A  glance  at  their  lespective  functions 


276 


PROGRESS:   ITS   LAW    A^'I>   CAUSJIJ. 


makes  it  obvious  that  the  firt-jit  divisions  tlius 
early  formed  stand  to  eacli  oilier  in  a  rela- 
tion similar  to  tliat  in  wliich  llie  [)rimary 
divisions  of  tlie  embryo  stand  to  eacli  other. 
For,  from  its  tirst  appearance,  tlie  class  of 
chiefs  is  that  by  which  the  external  acts  of 
tlie  society  are  controlled  :  alike  in  war,  in 
negotiation,  and  in  migration.  Afterward, 
wnile  the  upper  class  grows  distinct  from  the 
lower,  and  at  the  same  time  becomes  more 
and  more  exclusively  regulative  and  defen- 
sive in  its  functions,  alike  in  the  peisons  of 
kings  and  subordinate  rulers,  priests,  and 
military  leaders  ;  the  inferior  class  becomes 
more  and  more  exclusively  occupied  in  pro- 
viding the  necessaries  of  life  for  the  com- 
munity at  large.  From  the  soil,  with  which 
it  conies  in  most  direct  contact ,  the  mass  of  the 
people  takes  up  and  prcpaics  for  use  thefcod 
and  such  rude  articles  of  manufacture  as  are 
known,  while  the  overl3'ingm;iss  of  superior 
men,  maintained  by  the  working  population, 
deals  with  circumstances  external  to  the 
communil}' — circumstances  with  which,  by 
position,  it  is  more  immediately  concerned. 
Ceasing  by  and  by  to  have  any  knowledge 
of  or  power  over  the  concerns  of  the  socitty 
as  a  whole,  the  serf  class  becomes  devoted  to 
the  processes  of  alimentation  ;  while  the 
noble  class,  ceasing  to  take  any  part  in  the 
processes  of  alimentation,  becomes  devoted 
to  the  co-ordinated  movcmen'.s  of  the  entire 
body  politic. 

Eijually  remarkable  is  a  further  analogy  of 
like  kind.  After  the  mucous  uml  serous 
layers  of  the  embryo  have  se[iaratcd,  thero 
presently  ari.ses  between  the  two,  a  third, 
known  to  physiologists  as  the  vascular  layer 
— a  layer  out  of  which  are  developed  the 
chief  blood-vessels.  The  mucous  layer  ab- 
sorbs nutriment  from  the  mass  of  yelk  it  in- 
closes ;  this  nutriment  has  to  be  transferred 
to  the  overlying  serous  layer,  out  of  which 
the  nervo-muscular  system  is  being  devel- 
oped ;  and  between  the  two  arises  a  vascular 
system  by  which  the  transfer  is  effected— a 
system  of  vessels  which  continues  ever  after 
to  be  the  transferrer  of  nutriment  from  the 
places  where  it  is  absorbed  and  prepared,  to 
the  places  where  it  is  needed  for  growth  and 
repair.  Well,  may  we  not  trace  a  parallel 
step  in  social  progress  ? 

Between  the  governing  and  the  governed, 
there  at  first  exists  no  intermediate  class  ; 
and  even  iu  some  societies  that  have  reached 
considerable  sizes  there  are  scarcely  any  but 
the  nobles  and  their  kindred  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  serfs  on  the  other  :  the  social  struc- 
ture being  such  that  the  transfer  of  com- 
modities takes  place  directly  from  slaves  to 
their  masters.  But  in  societies  of  a  higher 
type  there  grows  up  between  these  two 
primitive  classes  another— the  trading  or 
middle  class.  Equally  at  first  as  now,  we 
may  see  that,  s[)eaking  generally,  this  middle 
class  is  the  analogue  of  the  middle  layer  in 
the  embryo.  For  all  traders  are  essentially 
distributors.  Whether  they  be  wholesale 
dealers,  who  collect  into  large  masses  the 
commodities    of     various     producers,      or 


whether  they  be  retailers,  who  divide  out  to 
those  wlio  want  them,  the  masses  ot  com- 
modities thus  collected  together,  all  mercan- 
tile men  are  agents  of  transfer  from  the 
places  where  things  are  produced  to  the 
I)laces  where  tiiey  are  consumed.  Thus  the 
distributing  apparatus  of  a  society  answers 
to  the  distributing  apparatus  of  a  living 
body  ;  not  only  in  its  functions,  but  in  its 
intermediate  origin  and  subst'(iuent  position, 
and  in  the  time  of  its  appearance. 

Without  enumerating. the  minor  differen- 
tiations which  these  three  great  classes  after- 
ward undergo,  we  will  merely  note  that 
throughout  they  follow  the  same  general 
law  with  the  differentiations  of  arr  individ- 
ual organism.  In  a  society,  as  in  a  ru(!imeu- 
tary  animal,  we  have  seen  that  the  most  gen- 
eral and  broadly  contrasted  divisions  are  the 
first  to  make  their  appearance  ;  and  of  the 
subdivisions  it  continues  true  in  both  casts, 
that  they  arise  in  the  order  of  decreasing 
generality. 

het  us  observe  next,  that  in  the  one  case 
as  in  the  other,  the  si)tcializatiou3  are  at  first 
very  inconi[)lele,  and  become  nioie  com- 
plete as  organization  progres.scs.  We  saw 
that  iu  primitive  tribes,  as  iu  the  nirnplest 
animals,  there  remains  much  community  of 
functii  n  between  the  parts  that  aie  nomi- 
nally different :  that,  for  instance,  the  class 
of  chiefs  long  remain  industrially  the  same 
as  the  inferior  class  ;  just  as  in  a  Ihjdra,  the 
property  of  contractility  is  possessed  by  the 
units  of  the  eudoderm  as  well  as  by  those  of 
the  ectoderm.  We  noted  also  how,  as  the 
society  advanced,  the  two  great  primitive 
classes  partook  loss  and  less  of  each  other's 
functions.  And  we  have  here  to  remark, 
that  all  subse(iuent  specializations  are  at  first 
vague,  and  gradually  become  distinct.  "  In 
the  infancy  of  society,"  says  M.  Guizot, 
"everything  is  confused  and  uncertain; 
there  is  as  yet  no  fixed  and  precise  line  of 
demarcation  between  the  different  powers  iq 
a  state."  "  Originally  kings  lived  like  other 
landowners,  cu  the  inccmes  derived  from 
their  own  private  estates."  Nobles  were 
petty  kinus,  and  kings  only  the  most  power- 
ful nobles.  Bishops  were  feudal  lords  and 
military  leaders.  The  right  of  coining  money 
was  possessed  by  powerful  sulijects,  and  by 
the  Church,  as  well  as  by  the  king.  Every 
leading  man  exercised  alike  the  functions  of 
landowner,  farmer,  soldier,  statesman,  judge. 
Retainers  were  now  soldiers,  and  now  la- 
borers, as  the  day  required.  But  by  degrees 
the  Church  has  lost  all  civil  jurisdiction  ;  the 
state  has  exercised  less  and  less  control  over 
religious  teaching  ;  the  military  class  has 
grown  a  distinct  one  ;  handicrafts  have  con- 
centrated in  towns  ;  and  the  spinning-wheels 
of  scattered  farmhouses  have  disappeared 
before  the  machinery  of  manufacturing  dis- 
tricts. ISot  only  is  all  progress  from  the 
homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous,  but  at 
the  same  time  it  is  from  the  indefinite  to  the 
definite. 

Another  fact  which  should  not  be  passed 
over,  is  that  in  the  evolution  of  a  large  so- 


PnOGRESS:   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


277 


clety  out  of  an  aggregation  of  small  ones 
there  is  u  gradual  obliteration  of  the  original 
lines  of  sepuratum — a  change  to  ■which,  also, 
we  may  see  analogies  in  living  bodies. 
Throughout  the  sub'kingiiom  Annuhm  this 
is  cleail}' and  variously  illustrated.  Among 
the  lower  types  of  this  sub-kingdom  the 
body  consists  of  numerous  segments  that  are 
alike  in  nearly  every  particular.  Eacli  has 
its  external  ring  ;  its  pair  of  legs,  if  the  creat- 
ure has  legs  ;  its  equal  portion  of  intestines,  ■ 
or  else  its  separate  stomach  ;  its  equal  por- 
tion of  the  great  blood-vessel,  or,  in  some 
cases,  its  separate  heart  ;  its  equal  portion  of 
the  nervous  cord,  and,  perhaps,  its  separate 
pair  of  ganglia.  But  in  the  highest  types,  as 
in  the  large  Vrusiaan,  many  of  the  segments 
are  completely  fu.sed  together,  and  tlie  in- 
ternal organs  are  no  longer  uniformly  re- 
peated in  all  the  scgmouis.  Now  the  seg- 
ments of  which  nations  at  first  consist  lose 
their  separate  external  and  inttrnal  structures 
in  a  similar  manner.  In  feudal  times  the 
minor  communities  governed  by  feudal 
lords,  were  severally  organized  in  the  same 
rude  way,  and  were  held  together  only  by 
the  fealty  of  their  respective  rulers  to  some 
suzerain.  But  along  with  the  growth  of  a 
central  power  the  demarcations  of  these 
local  communities  disappeared,  and  their 
separate  organizations  merged  into  the  gen- 
eral organization.  Tlie  like  is  seen  on  a 
larger  scale  in  the  fusion  of  England,  Wales, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland  ;  and,  on  tlie  conti- 
nent, in  the  coalescence  of  provinces  iuto 
kingdoms.  Even  in  the  disappearance  ot 
Jaw  made  divisions,  the  process  is  analogous. 
Among  the  Anglo-Su.xons  Englaud  was  di- 
vided iuto  tilliiugs,  hundreds,  and  counties  : 
there  were  county  courts,  courts  of  hundred, 
and  courts  of  titliing.  Tiic  courts  of  tithing 
disappeared  first  ;  then  the  courts  of  hun- 
dred,which  have,  however,  left  traces  ;  while 
the  county  jurisdiction  still  exists. 

But  chiefly  it  is  to  be  noted,  that  there 
eventually  grows  up  an  organization  which 
has  no  reference  to  these  original  divisions, 
but  traverses  them  in  various  directions,  as 
is  the  case  in  creatures  belonging  to  the  sub- 
kingdom  just  named  ;  and,  further,  that  in 
both  civses  it  is  the  sustaining  organization 
which  thus  traverses  old  boundaries,  wliile 
in  both  cases  it  is  the  governmental  or  co-or- 
dinating organization  in  which  tho  original 
boundaries  continue  traceable.  Thus,  in  the 
highest  Aanulosa,  the  exo-skeleton  and  the 
muscular  system  never  lose  all  traces  of 
their  primitive  segmentation,  but  throughout 
a  great  part  of  the  body  the  contained  vis- 
cera do  not  in  the  least  conform  to  the  ex- 
ternal divisions.  Similarly,  with  a  nation, 
we  see  that  while,  for  governmental  pur- 
poses, such  divisions  as  counties  and  parishes 
still  exist,  the  structure  developed  f  jr  carry- 
ing on  the  nutrition  of  society  wholly  ig- 
nores these  boundaries  :  our  great  cotton- 
manufacture  spreads  out  of  Lanca-shire  into 
North  Der!)yshire  ;  Leicestershire  anrl  Not- 
tinghamshire have  long  divided  the  stocking- 
trade  between  them ;  one  great  centre  for 


the  production  of  iron  and  iron-goods  in- 
cludes parts  of  Warwickshire,  Staffordshire, 
Worcestershire  ;  and  those  various  speciali- 
zations of  agriculture  which  have  made 
dififerent  parts  of  England  noted  for  different 
products  show  no  more  respect  to  county 
boundaries  than  do  our  growing  towns  to 
the  boundaries  of  parishes. 

If,  after  contemplating  these  analogies  of 
structure,  we  inquire  whether  there  are  any 
such  analogies  between  the  processes  of  or- 
ganic change,  the  answer  is.  Yes.  The 
causes  which  lead  to  increa.se  of  bulk  in  any 
part  of  the  body  politic  are  of  like  nature 
with  those  which  lead  to  increase  of  bulk  in 
any  part  of  an  indi  viilual  body.  In  both  cases 
the  .tiitecedent  is  greater  functional  activity, 
consequent  on  greater  demand.  Each  limb, 
viscus,  gland,  or  other  meml)er  of  an  animal 
is  developed  by  exercise — by  actively  dis- 
charging the  duties  which  the  body  at  large 
requires  of  it  ;  and  similarly,  rmy  class  of 
laborers  or  artisans,  any  manufacturing  cen- 
tre, or  any  ollicial  agency,  begins  to  enlarge 
when  the  community  devolves  on  it  an  in- 
crease of  work.  In  each  ca.se,  too,  growth 
has  i»s  conditions  and  its  limits.  That  any 
organ  in  a  living  being  may  grow  by  exer- 
cise there  needs  a  due  supply  of  blood  :  all 
action  implies  waste  ;  blood  brings  the  mate- 
rials tor  repair  ;  and  before  there  can  be 
growth,  the  (luantity  of  blood  supplied  must 
be  more  than  that  requisite  for  repair. 

So  is  it  in  a  society.  If  to  some  district 
which  elaborates  for  the  community  partic- 
ular commodities — say  the  woollens  of  York- 
shire— there  comes  an  augmented  demand  ; 
anrl  if,  in  fulfilment  of  this  demand,  a  cer- 
tain expenditure  and  wear  of  the  manufac- 
turing organization  are  incurred  ;  and  if,  in 
payment  for  the  extra  supply  of  woollens  sent 
away  there  comes  back  only  such  quantity 
of  commodities  as  replaces  the  expenditure, 
and  makes  good  the  waste  of  life  aud  ma- 
chinery, there  can  clearly  be  no  growth. 
That  there  may  be  growth,  the  commodities 
obtained  in  return  must  be  more  than  suffi- 
cient for  these  ends  ;  and  just  in  proportion 
as  the  surplus  is  great  will  the  growth  bo 
rapid.  Whence  it  is  manifest  that  what  in 
commercial  affairs  we  call  jirofit  answers  to 
the  excess  of  nutrition  over  waste  in  a  living 
body.  ISIoreover,  in  both  cases,  when  the 
functional  activity  is  high  and  tlie  nutrition 
defective,  there  results  not  growth,  but  de- 
cay. If  in  an  animal  any  organ  is  worked  so 
hard  that  the  channels  which  bring  blood 
cannot  furnish  enough  for  repair,  the  organ 
dwindles  ;  and  if  in  the  body  politic  some 
part  has  been  stimulated  into  great  produc- 
tivity, and  cannot  afterward  get  paid  for  all 
its  produce,  certain  of  its  members  become 
bankrupt,  and  it  decrea.ses  in  size. 

One  more  parallelism  to  be  here  noted  is, 
that  the  different  [tarts  of  the  social  organ- 
ism, like  the  different  parts  of  an  individual 
organism,  compete  for  nutriment,  and  sev- 
erally obtain  more  or  less  of  it  according  as 
they  are  discharging  more  or  less  dut}'.  If  a 
man's  braiu  be  over-excited,  it  will  abstract 


PROGRESS:   ITS   LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


blood  from  his  viscera  and  stop  digestion  ;  or 
digestion  actively  going  on  will  so  alTect  the 
circulation  liirougii  tiie  Ijrain  as  to  cause 
drowsiness  ;  or  great  muscular  exertion  will 
determine  such  n  quantity  of  blood  to  the 
limbs  as  to  arrest  digestion  or  cerebral  ac- 
tion, as  the  case  may  Itc.  So,  likewise,  in  a 
society,  it  frequently  happens  that  great  ac- 
tivity in  some  one  direction  causes  partial 
arrests  of  activity  elsewhere,  b}'  abstracting 
capital,  that  is  commodities  :  as  instance  the 
way  in  which  tlie  sudden  development  of 
our  railway  system  hampered  commercial 
operations  ;  or  the  way  in  which  the  raising 
of  a  large  military  force  temporarily  stops 
the  growth  of  leading  industries. 

The  last  few  paragraplis  introduce  the 
next  division  of  our  subject.  Almost  un- 
awares "we  have  come  upon  the  analogy 
■which  exists  between  the  blood  of  a  living 
body  and  tlie  circulating  mass  of  commodi- 
ties in  the  body  politic.  We  have  now  to 
trace  out  this  analogy  from  its  simplest  to  its 
most  complex  manifestations. 

In  the  lowest  animals  there  exists  no  blood 
properly  so  called.  Through  the  small  aggre- 
gation of  cells  which  make  up  a  Ihjdra,  per- 
meate the  juices  abscjrbed  from  the  food. 
There  is  no  apparatus  for  elaborating  a  con- 
centrated ami  puriticd  nutriment,  and  dis- 
tributing it  among  the  component  units  ; 
but  these  component  units  directly  imbibe 
the  uni)repared  nutriment,  cither  from  tlve 
digestive  cavity  or  from  each  other.  May  we 
not  say  that  this  is  what  takes  place  in  an 
aboriginal  tribe?  All  its  members  severally 
obtain  for  themselves  the  necessaries  of  life 
in  their  crude  states,  and  severally  prepare 
them  for  their  own  uses  as  well  as  they  can. 
When  there  aiises  a  decided  differentiation 
between  the  goveridng  and  the  governed, 
some  amount  of  transfer  begins  betv.'een 
tho.se  inferior  individuals,  who,  as  workers, 
come  directly  in  contact  with  the  products 
of  the  earth,  and  those  superior  ones  who 
exercise  the  higher  functions— a  transfer 
parallel  to  that  which  accompanies  the 
differentiation  of  the  ectoderm  from  the  en- 
doderm.  In  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other, 
however,  it  is  a  transfer  of  products  that  are 
little  if  at  all  prepared,  ami  takes  place  di- 
rectly from  the  unit  which  obtains  to  the 
unit  which  consumes,  without  enleiiug  iulj 
any  general  current. 

Passing  to  larger  organisms — individual  and 
social — we  find  the  tirst  advance  upon  this 
arrangement.  Where,  as  among  the  com- 
pound Hydrozoa,  there  is  an  aggregation  of 
or  many  such  primitive  groups  as  form 
Eydrce,  or  where,  as  in  a  Medusa,  one  of 
these  groups  has  become  of  great  size, 
there  exist  rude  channels  running  through- 
out the  substance  of  the  body  ;  not  how- 
ever, channels  for  the  conveyance  of  pre- 
pared nutriment,  but  mere  prolongations 
of  the  digestive  cavilj',  through  which  the 
crude  chyle-aqueous  fluid  reaches  the  re- 
moter parts,  and  is  moved  backward  and 
forward  b}'  the  creature's  contractions.  Do 
we  not  find  in  some  of  the  more  advanced 


primitive  communities  an  analogous  condi- 
tion ?  When  the  men,  partially  or  fully  united 
into  one  societ}',  become  numerous — when, 
as  usually  happens,  the}'  cover  a  surface  of 
country  not  everywhere  alike  in  its  product.^ 
— when,  more  especiall}",  there  arise  consid- 
erable cla.ssis  that  are  not  industiial  ;  some 
process  of  exchange  and  di.sliibution  inevi- 
tably arises.  Traversing  here  and  there  the 
earth's  surface,  covered  by  that  vegetation 
on  which  human  life  depends,  and  inwliich, 
as  we  say,  tiie  units  ot  u  .society  are  im- 
bedded, there  are  formed  indefinite  paths, 
along  whieh  some  of  the  necessaries  of  life 
occasionally  j>ass,  to  be  bartend  forotlieis 
which  ptesenii}-  come  back  iiioiig  the  same 
channels.  Note,  however,  tlmt  at  fiist  little 
else  but  crude  commodities  are  thus  trans- 
ferred— fruits,  h«-li,  pigs  or  cattle,  skin.-*, 
lie.  :  there  ate  few,  if  any,  manufaclureii 
jiroduds  or  ai tides  prepared  for  consump 
lion.  And  note  Inrllier,  tiiat  such  distribution 
of  these  unpiei'aied  necessaries  of  life  as 
tiik(  s  ])lace  is  but  occasioiial — goes  on  with 
a  certain  slo  v.  irregular  rhythm. 

Ftiillier  progress  in  the  ( laboration  and 
distribution  of  uuliiment  or  «)f  commodities 
IS  a  nece.'i.saiy  accompaniment  of  further 
differentiation  of  functions  in  the  individual 
body  or  in  the  body  politic.  As  fast  as  each 
organ  of  a  living  animal  becomes  confined  to 
a  special  action,  it  must  become  dependent 
on  the  rest  for  all  tho.se  materials  which  its 
position  and  duty  do  not  permit  it  to  obtain 
for  itself  ;  in  the  same  way  that,  as  fast  as 
each  particular  class  of  a  community  be- 
comes exclusively  occupied  in  jjroducing  its 
own  commodity,  it  must  become  dependent 
on  the  rest  for  the  other  commodities  it 
needs.  And,  simultaneousl}',  a  more  per- 
fectly-elaborated blood  will  result  from  a 
highly-specialized  group  of  nutritive  organs, 
severally  adapted  to  prepare  its  different  ele- 
ments ;  in  the  same  way  that  the  stream  of 
conmiodities  circulating  throughout  a  society 
will  be  of  superior  quality  in  proportion  to 
the  greater  division  of  labor  among  the 
workers.  Observe,  also,  that  in  titherca.se 
the  circulating  mass  of  nutritive  materials, 
besides  coming  gradually  to  consist  of  better 
ingredients,  also  grows  more  complex.  An 
increase  in  the  number  of  the  unlike  organs 
which  add  to  the  blood  their  waste  matters, 
and  demand  from  it  the  different  materials 
they  severally  need,  implies  a  blood  more 
heterogeneous  in  composition — an  a  priori 
conclusion  which,  according  to  Dr.  Will- 
iams, is  inductively  confirmed  by  examina- 
tion of  the  blood  throughout  the  v.-xrious 
grades  of  the  animal  kingdom.  And  simi- 
larly it  is  manifest  that  as  fast  as  the  division 
of  labor  among  the  classes  of  a  community 
becomes  greater,  there  must  be  an  incrcasrng 
heterogeneity  in  the  currents  of  meichimdise 
flowing  throughout  that  community. 

The  circulating  mass  of  nutritive  materials 
in  individual  organisms  and  in  social  organ- 
isms becoming  alike  better  in  the  quality  of 
its  ingredients  and  more  heterogeneous  in 
composition,  as  the  type  of  structure  becomes 


FKOGKESS:   ITS   LAW   A:NI)   CAUSE. 


2TJ 


higher,  eveutually  has  iiddcil  to  it,  in  both 
cases  another  element,  which  is  not  itself  nu- 
tritive, but  facilitates  the  process  of  nutri- 
tion. We  refer,  iu  the  case  of  the  individual 
organism,  to  the  blood-dis-ks,  and  iu  the  case 
of  the  social  organism,  to  niuney.  This 
anal;)g3'  has  been  observed  by  Jjiebig,  who  iu 
his  "  Familiar  Letters  on  Chemistry,"  says  : 

"  Silver  aud  gold  have  to  perform  iu  the 
organization  of  the  state  the  same  function 
as  the  blood  corpuscles  in  the  human  or- 
ganization. As  tliese  round  disks,  without 
themselves  taking  an  immediate  share  in  (ho 
nutritive  pfocess.  are  the  medium,  the  essen- 
tial condition  of  the  change  of  matter,  of  the 
production  ot  the  heat,  and  of  tlie  force  by 
whicii  tlie  temperature  of  the  body  is  kept 
up  and  the  motions  of  the  blood  aud  all  the 
juices  are  determined,  so  has  gold  become 
the  medium  of  all  activity  in  the  life  of  the 
state. '  * 

And  blood-corpuscles  being  like  money  in 
their  functions,  aud  in  the  fact  that  they  are 
not  consumed  in  nutrition,  he  further  poinis 
out,  tliat  the  number  of  them  which  in  a 
cousiderable  interval  flows  through  tlie  great 
centres  is  enormous  when  compared  wUii 
their  absolute  number  ;  just  as  the  (juantity 
of  money  wliicii  annually  passes  tiirough  the 
great  mercantile  centres  is  enormous  when 
compared  with  the  total  quantity  of  money 
in  the  kingdom.  Nor  is  this  all.  Liebig  has 
omitted  the  significant  circum.stance,  that 
only  at  a  certain  stage  of  organization  dees 
this  clement  of  the  circulation  make  i is  ap- 
pearance. Thioughout  extensive  divisions  of 
the  lower  animals,  the  blood  contains  no  cor- 
puscles ;  and  in  societies  ot  low  civilization 
there  is  no  money. 

Thus  far  we  have  considered  the  analogy 
between  the  blood  in  a  living  body  and  the 
consumable  and  circulating  commodities  in 
the  body  politic.  Let  us  now  compare  the 
appliances  by  which  they  are  respectively 
distributed.  We  shall  hud  in  the  develop- 
ment of  these  appliances,  parallelisms  not 
less  remarkal)le  than  those  above  set  fivrth. 
Already  we  have  shown  that,  as  classes, 
wholesale  and  retail  distributors  discharge  in 
a  society  the  office  which  the  vascular  sys- 
tem discharges  in  an  individual  creature  ;  that 
they  come  into  existence  Liter  than  the  other 
two  great  classes,  as  the  vascular  layer  ap- 
pears later  than  the  mucous  and  serous  lay- 
ers ;  and  that  they  occupy  a  like  intermedi- 
ate position.  Here,  however,  it  remains  to 
be  pointed  out  that  a  complete  conception  of 
the  circulating  system  in  a  society  includes 
not  only  the  active  human  agents  who  propel 
the  currents  of  commodities,  and  regulate 
their  distribution,  but  includes  also  the 
channels  of  communication.  It  is  the  forma- 
tion and  arrangement  of  these  to  which  we 
now  direct  attention. 

Goiug  back  once  more  to  those  lower  ani- 
mals in  which  there  is  found  nothing  but  a 
partial  diffusion,  not  of  blood,  but  only  of 
crude  nutritive  fluids,  it  is  to  be  remarked 
that  the  channels  through  which  the  diffu- 
sion   takes     place     are    mere     excavations 


through  the  half -organized  substance  of  the 
body  :  thej'  have  no  lining  membranes,  but 
are  mere  lacunce  traversing  a  rude  tissue. 
Now  countries  iu  which  civilization  is  but 
commencing  display  a  like  cuuditiou  :  there 
are  no  roads  properly  so  called  ;  but  the  wil- 
derness of  vegetal  life  covering  the  eartii's 
surface,  is  piel-ced  by  tracks,  through  which 
the  distribution  of  crude  commouliies  tukcs 
place.  And  while  in  both  casts  the  ads  of 
distribution  occur  only  at  long  intervals  (the 
currents,  after  a  pause,  now  setting  toward  a 
general  centre,  and  now  away  from  it),  the 
transfer  is  in  both  cases  slow  aud  ditlicult. 
But  among  other  accompaniments  of  prog- 
ress, common  to  animals  and  societies,  comes 
the  formation  of  more  detinite  and  complete 
channels  of  communication.  Blood-vessels 
acquire  distinct  walls  ;  roads  are  fenced  and 
gravelled.  This  advance  is  first  seen  in 
those  roads  or  vessels  that  are  nearest  to  the 
chief  centres  of  distribution  ;  while  the  pe- 
ripheral roads  aud  peripheral  vessels  long 
continue  iu  their  primitive  states.  At  a  yet 
later  stage  of  developmenl,  where  comparal  ive 
linish  of  structure  is  found  tliroughoul  the 
system  as  well  as  near  the  chief  centres, 
there  remains  in  both  cases  ihe  difference, 
that  the  main  channels  are  comparatively 
broad  and  straight,  while  the  subordinate 
ones  are  narrow  and  tortuous  in  proportion 
to  their  remoteness. 

Lastly,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  there  ulti- 
mately arise  in  the  higher  social  organisms, 
as  in  the  higher  individual  organisms,  main 
channels  of  distribution  still  more  distin- 
guished bj'  their  perfect  structures,  their 
comparative  straightness,  and  the  absence  of 
those  small  branches  which  the  minor  chan- 
nels perpetually  give  off.  And  in  railways 
we  also  see,  for  the  lirst  time  in  the  social 
organism,  a  specialization  with  respect  to 
the  directions  of  the  currents— a  system  of 
double  channels  conveying  currents  in  oppo- 
site directions,  as  do  the  arteries  and  veins 
of  a  well-developed  animal. 

These  parallelisms  in  the  evolutions  and 
structures  of  the  circulating  systems  intro- 
duce us  to  others  iu  the  kinds  and  rates  of 
the  movements  going  on  through  them.  In 
the  lowest  societies,  as  in  the  lowest  creat- 
ures, the  distribution  of  crude  nutriment  is 
by  slow  gurgitations  and  regurgitations.  In 
creatures  tliat  have  rude  vascular  systems, 
as  in  societies  that  are  beginning  to  have  roads 
and  some  transfer  of  commodities  along 
them,  there  is  no  regular  circulation  in  defi- 
nite courses  ;  but  in.stead,  periodical  changes 
of  the  currents — now  toward  this  point,  and. 
now  toward  that.  Through  each  part  of  an 
inferior  moUusk's  body  the  blood  flows  for 
a  while  in  one  direction,  then  stops,  and 
flows  in  the  opposite  direction  ;  just  as 
through  a  rudely-organized  society  the  dis- 
tribution of  merchandise  is  slowly  carried  on 
by  great  fairs,  occurring  in  different  locali- 
ties, to  and  from  which  the  currents  periodi- 
cally set.  Only  animals  of  tolerably  com- 
plete organizations,  like  advanced  communi- 
ties, are  permeated  by  constant  currents  lh»t. 


280 


PROGRESS.   ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


are  definitely  directed,  la  livinp:  liodies  the 
local  iind  variable  eurreiUs  disappear  wiiea 
tliere  grow  up  great  centres  of  circulation, 
generating  more  powerful  currents  by  a 
rhythm  wiiich  ends  in  a  quicli,  reguhir  pul- 
iation. And  when  in  social  l)odies  there 
arise  great  centres  of  commercial  activity, 
producing  and  exchanging  large  quantities  of 
conunodilies,  the  rapid  and  continuous 
streams  drawn  in  and  emitted  by  these  cen- 
tres subdue  all  minor  and  local  circulations  : 
the  slow  rhythm  of  fairs  merges  into  the  faster 
one  of  weekly  markets,  and  in  the  chief  cen- 
tres of  distribution  weekly  markets  merge 
into  daily  markets  ;  while  in  place  of  the 
languid  transfer  from  place  to  place,  taking 
place  at  first  weekl}',  then  twice  or  thrice  a 
week,  we  by  and  by  g'-t  daily  transfer,  and 
finally  transfer  many  times  a  day — the  orig- 
inal sluggish,  irregular  rhythm  becomes  a 
rapid,  equable  pulse. 

Mark,  too,  that  in  both  cases  the  increased 
activity,  like  the  greater  perfection  of  struc- 
ture, is  much  less  conspicuous  at  the  pe- 
riphery of  the  vascular  s^  stem.  On  main  lines 
of  railway  we  have,  perhaps,  a  score  trains 
in  each  direction  daily,  going  at  from  thirty 
to  fifty  miles  an  hour  ;  as,  through  the  great 
arteries,  the  blood  rushes  ra[)idly  in  succes- 
sive gushes.  Along  high  roads  there  move 
vehicles  conveying  men  and  connnodities 
with  much  less,  though  still  considerable 
speed,  and  with  a  much  less  decided  rhythm  , 
as,  in  the  smaller  arteries,  the  speed  of  the 
blood  is  greatly  diminished,  and  the  pulse 
less  conspicuous.  In  parish-roads,  narrow, 
less  complete,  and  more  tortuous,  the  rate  of 
movement  is  further  decreased  and  the 
rhythm  scarcely  traceable,  as  in  the  ultimate 
arteries.  In  those  still  more  imperfect  by- 
roads which  lead  from  these  parish  roads  to 
scattered  farmhouses  and  cottages,  the  motion 
is  yet  slower  and  very  irregular  ;  just  as  we 
find  It  in  the  capillaries.  While  along  the 
field-roads,  which,  in  their  unformed,  un- 
lenccd  state,  are  typical  of  lacuiue  the  niove- 
liieut  is  the  slowest,  the  most  irregular  and 
the  most  infrequent  ;  as  it  is,  not  only  in  the 
primitive  lacuuce  of  animals  and  societies, 
but  as  it  IS  also  in  those  lacinuje  in  which  the 
vascular  system  ends  among  extensive  fam- 
ilies of  inferior  creatures. 

Thus,  then,  we  find  between  the  distribut- 
ing systems  of  living  bodies  and  the  distrib- 
uting systems  of  bodies  politic,  wonderfullj' 
close  parallelisms.  In  the  lowest  forms  of 
individual  and  social  organisms  there  exist 
ueilher  prepared  nutritive  matters  nor  dis- 
tributing appliances  ;  and  in  both,  these, 
arising  as  necessary  accompaniments  of  the 
differentiation  of  parts,  approach  perfection 
as  this  differentiation  approaches  complete- 
ness. In  animals  as  in  societies,  the  distrib- 
uting agencies  begin  to  show  themselves  at 
the  same  relative  periods,  and  in  the  same 
relative  positions.  In  the  one,  as  in  the 
other,  the  nutritive  materials  circulated  are 
at  first  crude  and  simple,  gradually  become 
better  elaborated  and  more  heterogeneous, 
and  have  eventually  added  to  them  a  new 


clement  facilitating  the  nutritive  processes. 
The  channels  of  communication  pass  through 
similar  pha.scs  of  development,  which  bring 
them  to  analogous  forms.  And  the  direc- 
tions, ihylhms,  and  rates  of  circulation  pro- 
gress by  like  steps  to  like  final  conditions. 

We  come  at  length  to  the  nervous  system. 
Having  noticed  the  primary  differentiation  of 
societies  into  the  governing  and  governed 
classes,  and  observed  its  analogy  to  the  dif- 
ferentiation of  the  two  primary  tissues  which 
respectively  develop  into  organs  of  external 
action  and  organs  of  alimentation  ;  having 
noticed  some  of  the  leading  analogies  be- 
tween the  development  of  industrial  arrange- 
ments and  that  of  the  alimentary  apparatus  ; 
and  having,  above,  more  fully  traced  the 
analogies  between  the  distributing  sjslems, 
social  and  individual,  we  have  now  to  com- 
pare the  appliances  by  which  a  society,  as  a 
whole,  is  regulated,  with  those  by  which  the 
movements  of  an  individual  creature  are 
regulated.  We  shall  find  here  ])arallelisnig 
equally  striking  with  those  already  detailed. 

The  class  out  of  which  governmental' 
organization  originates,  is,  as  we  have  said, 
analogous  in  its  relations  to  the  ectoderm  of 
the  lowest  animals  and  of  embryonic  forms. 
And  as  this  primitive  membrane,  out  of 
which  the  nervo-muscular  system  is  evolved, 
must,  even  in  the  fiist  stage  of  its  differentia- 
tion, be  slightly  distinguished  from  the  rest 
by  that  greater  impressibility  and  contractil- 
ity characterizing  the  organs  to  which  it 
gives  rise  ;  so,  in  that  superior  class  which 
is  eventually  transformed  into  the  directo- 
cxecuiive  system  of  a  society  (its  legislative 
and  defensive  appliances),  does  there  exist  in 
the  beginning  a  larger  endowment  of  the 
capacities  required  for  these  higher  social 
functions.  Always,  in  rude  assemblages  of 
men,  the  strongest,  most  courageous,  and 
most  sagacious  become  mlers  and  leaders  ; 
and  in  a  tribe  of  some  standing  this  results 
in  the  establishment  of  a  dominant  class, 
characterized  on  the  average  by  those  mental 
and  bodily  qualities  which  fit^them  for  delib- 
eration and  vigorous  ctmibined  action.  Thus 
that  greater  impressibility  and  contractility, 
which  in  the  rudest  animal  types  characterize 
the  units  of  the  ectoderm,  characterize  also 
the  units  of  the  primitive  social  ectoderm  ; 
since  impressibility  and  contractility  are  the 
respective  roots  of  intelligence  and  strength. 

Again,  in  the  unmodified  ectoderm,  as  we 
see  \i  in  the  Uyclra,  the  units  are  all  endowed 
both  with  impressibility  and  contractility  ; 
but  as  we  ascend  to  higher  types  of  organi- 
zation, the  ectoderm  differentiates  into  classes 
of  units  which  divide  those  two  functions 
between  them  :  some,  becoming  exclusively 
impressible,  cease  to  be  contractile  ;  while 
some,  becoming  exclusively  contractile, 
cease  to  be  impressible.  Similarly  with 
societies.  In  an  aboriginal  tribe,  the  direc- 
tive and  executive  functions  are  diffused  in 
a  mingled  form  throughout  the  whole  gov- 
erning class.  Each  minor  chief  commands 
those  under  him,  and,  if  need  be,  himself 
coreces  them  inlo  obedience.     The  council 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


381 


of  chiefs  itself  carries  out  on  the  battle-field 
its  owu  decisions.  The  head  chief  not  only 
makes  laws,  but  administers  justice  with  his 
own  hands.  In  larger  and  more  settled  com- 
munities, however.the  directive  and  executive 
agencies  begin  to  grow  distinct  from  each 
other.  As  fast  as  his  duties  accumulate,  the 
head  chief  or  king  confines  himself  more  and 
more  to  directing  public  affairs,  and  leaves 
the  execution  of  his  will  to  others  :  he  de- 
pules  others  to  enforce  submission,  to  inflict 
punishments,  or  to  carry  out  minor  acts  of 
offence  aud  defence  ;  and  only  on  occasions 
when,  perhaps,  the  safety  of  the  society  and 
his  own  supremacy  are  at  stake,  does  he 
begin  to  act  as  well  as  direct.  As  this  diifer- 
enliatiou  establishes  itself,  the  characteristics 
of  tlie  ruler  begin  to  change.  No  longer,  as 
in  an  aboriginal  tribe,  the  strongest  and  most 
daring  man,  the  tendency  is  for  him  to  be- 
come the  man  of  greatest  cunning,  foresight, 
and  skill  in  the  management  of  others  ;  for 
in  societies  that  have"  advanced  beyond  the 
first  stage  it  is  chiefly  sucli  qualities  that 
insure  success  in  gaining  siipren)e  power, 
and  holding  it  against  internal  aud  external 
enemies.  Tlius  that  member  of  the  govern- 
ing class  who  comes  to  be  the  chief  directing 
agent,  and  so  plays  the  sanie  part  that  a 
rudimentary  nervous  centre  does  in  an  un- 
folding organism  is  usually  one  endowed 
with  some  superiorities  of  nervous  organiza- 
tion. 

In  those  somewhat  larger  and  more  com- 
plex conunuuities  possessing,  perhaps,  a  sep- 
arate military  class,  a  priesthood,  and  dis- 
persed masses  of  population  requiring  local 
control,  there  necessarily  grow  up  subordi- 
nate governing  agents  ;  who,  as  their  duties 
accumulate,  severally  become  more  directive 
and  less  executive  in  their  characters.  And 
■when,  as  commonly  happens,  the  king  l)e- 
gins  to  collect  round  himself  advisers  who 
aid  him  by  communicating  information,  pre- 
paring subjects  for  his  judgment,  and  issuing 
his  orders,  we  may  say  that  the  form  of 
organization  is  comparable  to  one  very  gen- 
eral among  inferior  types  of  animals,in  which 
there  exists  a  chief  ganglion  with  a  few  dis- 
persed minor  ganglia  under  its  control. 

The  analogies  between  the  evolution  of 
governmental  structures  in  societies,  and  the 
evolution  of  governmental  structures  in  living 
bodies,  are,  however,  more  strikingly  dis- 
played during  the  formation  of  nations  by 
the  coalescence  of  small  communities — a 
process  already  shown  to  be,  in  several  re- 
spects, parallel  to  the  development  of  those 
creatures  that  primarily  consist  of  many  like 
segments.  Among  other  points  of  commu- 
nity between  the  successive  rings  which  make 
up  the  body  in  the  lower  Articulata,  is  the 
possession  of  similar  pairs  of  ganglia.  These 
pairs  of  ganglia,  though  united  together  by 
nerves,  are  very  incompletely  dependent  on 
any  general  controlhng  power.  Hence  it  re- 
sults that  when  the  body  is  cut  in  two,  the 
hinder  part  continues  to  move  forward  under 
the  propulsion  of  its  numerous  leus  ;  and 
that  when    the  chain  of  ganglia  has   been 


divided  without  severing  the  body,  the  hind 
limbs  may  be  seen  trying  to  propel  the  body 
in  one  direction,  while  the  fore  limbs  are 
trying  to  propel  it  in  another.  Among  the 
higher  Articulata,  however,  a  number  of  the 
anterior  pairs  of  ganglia,  besides  growing 
larger,  unite  in  one  mass  ;  and  this  great 
cephalic  ganglion,  becoming  the  co-ordinator 
of  all  the  creature's  movements,  there  no 
longer    exists     much    local   independence. 

Now  may  we  not  in  the  growth  of  a  consoli- 
dated kingdom  out  of  petty  sovereignties  or 
baronies,  observe  analogous  changes  ?  Like 
the  chiefs  and  primitive  rulers  above  de- 
scribed, feudal  lords,  exercising  supreme 
power  over  their  respective  groups  of  retain- 
ers, discharge  functions  analogous  to  those 
of  rudimentary  nervous  centres  ;  and  we 
know  that  at  first  they,  like  their  analogues, 
are  distinguished  by  superiorities  of  directive 
nufl  executive  organization.  Among  these 
local  governing  centres  there  is,  in  early 
feudal  times,  very  little  subordination.  They 
are  in  frequent  antagonism  ;  tliey  are  indi- 
vidually restrained  chiefly  by  the  influence 
cf  large  parties  in  their  own  class,  and  are 
but  imperfectly  and  irregularly  subject  to 
that  most  powerful  member  of  their  order 
who  has  gained  the  position  of  head  suzerain 
or  king.  As  the  growth  and  organization  of 
the  society  progresses,  these  local  directive 
centres  fall  more  and  more  under  the  control 
of  a  chief  directive  centre.  Closer  commer- 
cial union  between  the  several  segments  is 
accompanied  by  closer  governmental  union  ; 
and  these  minor  rulers  end  in  being  little 
more  than  agents  who  administer,  in  their 
several  localities,  the  laws  made  by  the 
supreme  ruler  ;  just  as  the  local  ganglia 
above  described  eventually  become  agents 
which  enforce,  in  their  respective  segments, 
the  orders  of  the  cephalic  ganglion. 

The  parallelism  holds  still  further.  "We 
remaiked  above,  when  speaking  of  the  rise 
of  aboriginal  kings,  that  in  pioportion  as 
their  territories  aud  duties  increase,  they  are 
obliged  not  only  to  perform  their  executive 
functions  by  deputy,  but  also  to  gather  round 
themselves  advisers  to  aid  them  in  their 
directive  functions  ;  aud  that  thus,  in  place 
of  a  solitary  governing  unit,  there  grows  up 
a  group  of  governing  units,  comparable  to  a 
ganglion  consisting  of  many  cells.  Let  us 
here  add,  that  the  advisers  aud  chief  otficers 
who  thus  form  the  rudiment  of  a  ministry, 
tend  from  the  beginning  to  exercise  a  certain 
control  over  the  ruler.  By  the  information 
they  give  and  the  opinions  they  express,  they 
sway  his  judgment  and  affect  his  commands. 
To  this  extent  he  therefore  becomes  a  chan- 
nel through  which  are  communicated  the 
directions  originating  with  them  ;  and  in 
course  of  time,  when  the  advice  of  ministers 
becomes  the  acknowledged  source  of  his 
actions,  the  king  assumes  very  much  the 
character  of  an  automatic  centre,  reflecting 
the  impressions  made  on  him  from  without. 

Beyond  this  complication  of  governmental 
structure  many  .societies  do  not  progress  ; 
but   in  some  a  further  development    takes 


283 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  A^TD   CAUSE. 


place.  Otir  own  case  best  illustrates  this 
further  development  and  its  further  analo- 
gies. To  kings  and  their  ministries  have 
been  added,  in  England,  other  great  directive 
centres,  exercising  a  control  which,  at  first 
small,  has  been  gradually  becoming  predom- 
inant :  as  Mith  the  great  governing  ganglia 
that  especially  distinguish  the  highest  classes 
of  living  beings.  Strange  as  the  assertion 
will  be  thought,  our  houses  of  parliament 
discharge  in  the  social  economy,  functions 
that  are  in  sundry  respects  comparable  to 
those  discharged  by  the  cerebral  masses  in  a 
vertebrate  animal.  As  it  is  in  the  nature  of 
a  single  ganglion  to  be  affected  only  by 
special  stimuli  from  particular  parts  of  the 
bod}-,  so  it  is  in  the  nature  of  a  single  ruler 
to  be  swayed  in  his  acts  by  exclusive  person- 
al or  class  interests.  As  it  is  in  the  nature 
of  an  aggregation  of  ganglia,  connected  with 
the  primary  one,  to  convey  to  it  a  greater 
variety  of  influences  from  more  numeruus 
organs,  and  thus  to  make  its  acts  conform 
to  more  numerous  re(iuirements,  so  it  is 
in  the  nature  of  a  king  surrounded  by  sub- 
sidiary controlling  powers,  to  adapt  his  rule 
to  a  greater  number  of  public  exigencies. 
And  as  it  is  in  the  nature  of  those  great  and 
latest-developed  ganglia  which  distinguish 
the  higher  animals,  to  interpret  and  combine 
the  multiplied  and  varied  impressions  con- 
veyed to  them  from  all  parts  of  the  system, 
and  to  regulate  the  actions  in  such  way  as 
duly  to  regard  them  all  ;  so  it  is  in  the  nature 
of  those  great  and  latest-developed  legislative 
bodies  which  distinguish  the  most  advanced 
societies,  to  interpret  and  combine  the  wishes 
and  complaints  of  all  classes  and  localities, 
and  to  regulate  public  affairs  as  much  as 
possible  in  harmony  with  the  general  wants. 

The  cerebrum  co-ordinates  the  countless 
heterogeneous  considerations  w^hich  affect 
the  present  and  future  welfare  of  the  indi- 
vidual as  a  whole  ;  and  the  legislature  co- 
ordinates the  countless  heterogeneous  con- 
siderations which  affect  the  immediate  and 
remote  welfare  of  the  whole  community. 
We  may  describe  the  office  of  the  brain  as 
that  of  averaging  the  interests  of  life,  physi- 
cal, intellectual,  moral,  social  ;  and  a  good 
brain  is  one  in  which  the  desires  answering 
to  these  respective  interests  are  so  balanced, 
that  the  conduct  they  jointly  dictate,  sacri- 
fices none  of  them.  Similarly,  we  may  de- 
scribe the  office  of  a  parliament  as  that  of 
averaging  the  interests  of  the  various  classes 
in  a  community  ;  and  a  good  parliament  is 
one  in  which  the  parties  answering  to  these 
respective  interests  are  so  balanced,  that 
their  united  legislation  concedes  to  each  class 
as  much  as  consists  with  the  claims  of  the 
rest.  Besides  being  comparable  in  their 
duties,  these  great  directive  centres,  social 
and  individual,  are  comparable  in  the  pro- 
cesses by  which  their  duties  are  discharged. 

It  is  now  an  acknowledged  truth  in  psy- 
chology, that  the  cerebrum  is  not  occupied 
with  direct  impressions  from  without,  but 
with  the  ideas  of  such  impressions  :  instead 
of  the  actual  sensations  produced  in  the  body, 


and  directly  appreciated  by  the  sensory 
ganglia  or  primitive  nervous  centres,  the  cer- 
ebrum receives  only  the  representations  of 
these  sensations  ;  and  its  consciousness  is 
called  vejrreHentative  consciousness,  to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  the  original  or  presentatice 
consciousness.  Is  it  not  signiticant  that  we 
have  hit  on  the  same  word  to  distinguisli  the 
function  of  our  House  of  Commons  V  We 
call  it  a  representative  body,  because  the  in- 
terests with  which  it  deals — the  pains  and 
pleasures  about  which  it  consults— are  not 
directly  presented  to  it,  but  represented  to  it 
by  its  various  members  ;  and  a  debate  is  a 
conflict  of  representations  of  the  evils  or 
benefits  likely  to  follow  from  a  proposed 
course — a  description  which  applies  with 
equal  truth  to  a  debate  in  the  individual  con- 
sciousness. In  both  cases,  too,  these  great 
governing  masses  fake  no  part  in  the  execu- 
tive functions.  As,  after  a  conflict  iu  the 
cerebrum,  those  desires  which  finally  pre- 
dominate act  on  the  subjacent  ganglia,  and 
through  their  instrumentality  determine  the 
bodily  actions  ;  so  the  parties  which,  after  a 
parliamentary  struggle,  gain  the  victory,  do 
not  themselves  carry  out  their  wishes,  but 
get  them  carried  out  by  the  executive  divi- 
sions of  the  government.  The  fulfilment  of 
all  legislative  decisions  still  devolves  on  the 
original  directive  centres — the  impulse  pass- 
ing from  the  parliament  to  the  ministers,  and 
from  the  ministers  to  the  king,  in  whose 
name  everything  is  done  ;  just  as  those 
smaller,  first  developed  t,Mnglia,  which  in  the 
lowest  vertebrata  are  the  chief  controlling 
agents,  are  still,  in  the  brains  of  the  higher 
vertebrata,  the  agents  through  which  the 
dictates  of  the  cerebrum  are  worked  out. 

Moreover,  in  both  cases  these  original 
centres  become  increasingly  automatic.  In 
the  developed  vertebrate  animal,  they  have 
little  function  beyond  that  of  conveying  im- 
pressions to,  ana  executing  the  determina- 
tions of.  the  larger  centres.  In  our  highly 
organized  government,  the  monarch  has  long 
been  lapsing  into  a  passive  agent  of  parlia- 
ment ;  and  now,  ministers  are  rapidly  falling 
into  the  same  position. 

Nay,  between  the  two  cases  there  is  a  par- 
allelism, even  in  respect  of  the  exceptions  to 
this  automatic  action.  For  in  the  individual 
creature,  it  happens  that  under  circumstan- 
ces of  sudden  alarm,  as  from  a  loud  sound 
close  at  hand,  an  unexpected  object  start- 
ing up  in  front,  or  a  slip  from  insecure  foot- 
ing, the  danger  is  guarded  against  by  some 
quick  involuntary  jump,  or  adjustment  of 
the  limbs,  that  takes  place  before  there  is 
time  to  consider  the  impending  evil,  and 
take  deliberate  measures  to  avoid  it :  the 
rationale  of  which  is,  that  these  violent  im- 
pressions produced  on  the  senses  are  reflected 
from  the  sensory  ganglia  to  the  spinal  cord 
and  muscles,  without,  as  in  ordinary  cases, 
first  passing  through  the  cerebrum.  In  like 
manner,  on  national  emergencies,  calling  for 
prompt  action,  the  king  and  ministry,  not 
having  time  to  lay  the  matter  before  the 
great   deliberative   bodies,  themselves   issue 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AXD   CAUSE. 


283 


commands  for  the  requisite  movements  OT 
precautions  :  the  pritnitive,  and  now  almost 
automiUic,  directive  centres,  resume  for  a 
moment  their  original  uncontrolled  power. 
And  tbon.  strangest  of  all,  observe  that  in 
either  case  tliero  is  an  after  process  of 
approval  or  disapproval.  The  individual 
on  recovering  from  his  automatic  start,  at 
once  contem[)late3  the  cause  of  his  fright  ; 
and,  according  to  the  case,  concludes 
that  it  was  well  he  moved  as  he  did, 
or  condemns  himself  for  his  groundless 
alarm.  In  like  manner,  the  deliberative 
powers  of  the  state  discuss,  as  soon  as  may 
be,  the  unauthorized  acts  of  the  executive 
powers  ;  and.  deciding  that  the  reasons  were 
or  were  not  sutttcieut,  grant  or  withhold  a 
bill  of  indemnitj'.* 

Thus  far  in  comparing  the  governmental 
organization  of  the  l)ody  politic  with  tliat»of 
an  mdividual  body,  we  have  considered  only 
the  respective  co-ordinating  centres.  We 
have  yet  to  consider  the  channels  through 
which  these  co-ordiuatmg  centres  receive  in- 
formation and  convey  commands.  In  the 
simplest  societies,  as  in  the  simplest  organ- 
isms, there  IS  no  "  internuncial  apparatus," 
as  Hunter  styled  the  nervous  system.  Con- 
sequently, impressions  can  be  but  slowly 
propagated  from  unit  to  unit  throughout  tho 
whole  mass.  The  same  progress,  however 
which,  in  animal  organization,  shows  itself 
in  the  establishment  of  ganglia  or  directive 
centres  shows  itself  also  in  the  establishment 
of  nerve-threads,  through  which  the  ganglia 
receive  and  convey  impressions,  and  so  con- 
trol remote  organs.  And  in  societies  the  like 
eventually  takes  place. 

After  a  long  period  during  which  the 
directive  centres  communicate  with  various 
parts  of  the  society  through  other  means, 
there  at  last  comes  into  existence  an  "  inter- 
nuncial apparatus,"  analogous  to  that  found 
in  individual  bodies.  The  comparison  of 
telegraph-wires  to  nerves  is  familiar  to  all. 
It  applies,  however,  to  an  extent  not  com- 
monly suppised.  We  do  not  refer  to  the 
near  alliance  between  the  subtle  forces  em- 
ployed in  the  two  cases  ;  though  it  is  now 
held  that  the  nerve-force,  if  not  literally  elec- 
tric, is  still  a  special  form  of  electric  action, 
related  to  the  ordinary  form  much  as  mag- 
netism is.  But  we  refer  to  the  structural 
arrangements  of  our  telegraph  -  system. 
Thus,  throughout  the  vertebrate  sub-king- 
dt»m,  the  great  nerve-bundles  diverge  from 
the  vertebrate  axis,  side  by  side  with  the 
great  arteries  ;  and  similarly,  our  groups  of 
telegraph-wires  are  carried  along  the  sides  of 

•  It  may  he  well  to  warn  the  reader  a^inst  an  erroi 
fallen  iiuo  by  one  who  criiicised  this  essay  on  its  first 
uublication— the  error  of  BuppoBJDg  that  the  analogy 
nure  intended  to  be  drawn  lu  a  epecific  analogy  be- 
twci-n  the  ortjanization  of  society  in  England  and  the 
bnniaii  organization.  As  said  at  the  outset,  no  such 
epecitic  analogy  e.xists.  The  above  parallel  is  one  be- 
tween the  mo8t -developed  gyetemij  of  governineBtal 
organization,  individual  and  social ;  and  the  vertebratt 
type  is  instanced  merely  as  exhibiting  this  most-de- 
veloped system.  If  any  specific  comparison  wer« 
made', which  it  cannot  rationally  be,  it  would  be  tc 
some  much  lower  vertebrate  form  than  the  human. 


our  railways.  The  most  striking  parallel- 
ism, however,  remains.  Into  each  great 
bundle  of  nerves,  as  it  leaves  the  axis  of  tho 
body  along  with  an  artery,  there  enters  :i 
branch  of  the  sympathetic  nerve  ;  which 
branch,  accompanying  the  artery  through- 
out its  ramifications,  has  the  function  ol 
regulating  its  diameter  and  otherwise  con 
trolling  the  flow  of  blood  through  it  accord- 
ing to  the  local  retiuirements.  Analogously, 
in  the  group  of  telegraph  wires  running 
alongside  each  railway,  Ihere  is  one  for  the 
purpose  of  regulating  the  traffic— for  retard- 
ing or  expediting  the  flow  of  passengers  and 
commodities,  as  the  local  conditions  demand. 
Probably,  when  our  now  rudimentary  tele- 
graph-system is  fully  developed,  other  anal- 
ogies will  be  traceable. 

Such,  then,  is  a  general  outline  of  the  evi- 
dence which  justities,  in  detail,  the  compari- 
son of  societies  to  living  organisms.  That 
they  gradually  increase  in  mass  ;  that  they 
become  little  by  little  more  complex  ;  that  at 
the  same  time  their  parts  grow  more  mutu- 
ally dependent,  and  that  they  continue  to 
live  and  grow  as  wholes,  while  successive 
generations  of  their  units  appear  and  disa,p- 
pear,  are  broad  peculiarities  which  bodies 
politic  display,  in  common  with  all  living 
bodies  ;  and  in  which  they  and  living  bodies 
differ  from  everything  else.  And  on  carry- 
ing out  the  comparison  in  detail,  we  find 
that  these  major  analogies  involve  many 
minor  analogies,  far  closer  than  might  have 
been  expected.  To  these  we  would  gladly 
have  added  others.  We  had  hoped  to  say 
something  respecting  the  dillerent  types  of 
social  organization,  and  something  also  on 
social  metamorphoses  ;  but  we  have  reached 
our  assigned  limits. 

VI. 

THE  USE   OF  ANTHROPOMOnPniSM. 

That  long  fit  of  indignation  which  seizes 
all  generous  natures  when  in  youth  they  be- 
gin contemplating  human  affairs,  having 
fairly  spent  itself,  there  slowly  grows  up  a 
perception  that  the  institutions,  beliefs,  and 
forms  so  vehemently  condemned  are  not 
wholly  bad.  This  reaction  runs  to  various 
lengths.  In  some,  merely  to  a  comparative 
contentment  with  the  arrangements  under 
which  they  live.  In  others  to  a  recognition 
of  the  fitness  that  exists  between  each  people 
and  its  government,  tyrannical  as  that  may 
be.  In  some,  again,  to  the  conviction  that, 
hateful  though  it  is  to  us,  and  injurious  as  it 
would  l)e  now,  slavery  was  once  beneficial 
—was  one  of  the  necessary  pha.ses  of  human 
progress.  Again,  in  others,  to  the  suspicion 
that  great  benefit  has  indirectly  arisen  from 
the  perpetual  warfare  of  past  times  ;  insur- 
ing as  this  did  the  spread  of  the  strongest 
races,  and  so  providing  good  raw  material 
for  civilization.  And  in  a  few  this  reaction 
ends  in  the  generalization  that  all  modes  of 
human  thought  and  action  subserve,  in  the 
times  and  places  in  which  they  occur,  some 
useful  function  :  that  though  bad  in  the  ab- 
stract, they  are  relatively  good — arc  the  best 


284 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW   AND   CAUSE. 


which  tlie  thcu  existing  conditions  admit  of. 

A  starlliug  couclusiun  to  -which  this  faith 
in  the  essenlial  beneficence  of  things  com- 
mits us,  is  that  tiie  leiigious  creeds  tlirongli 
wliich  nianliiud  successively  pass,  are,  dur- 
ing the  eras  in  which  they  are  sevuTally  lieid, 
the  best  that  could  be  held  ;  and  tlial  this  is 
true,  not  only  of  the  latest  and  nioht  relined 
creeds,  but  of  all,  even  to  the  earliest  and 
most  gross.  Those  who  reganl  nuri's  faillis 
as  given  to  them  from  without— as  liaving 
origins  either  directly  divine  or  diabolicaf, 
and  who,  considering  their  own  as  the  sole 
example  of  the  one,  class  all  the  rest  under 
the  other,  will  liiink  this  a  very  hh(;cking 
opinion.  I  can  imagine,  too,  that  many  of 
those  who  have  al)and.)ned  current  theologies 
and  now  regard  religions  as  so  many  natural 
products  of  human  nature— men  who,  hav- 
ing lost  that  aniaL'nnism  towaid  their  old 
creed  which  they  felt  while  shaking  them- 
selves free  from  it,  can  now  see  ttiat  it  was 
highly  beneficial  to  past  generations,  and  is 
beneficial  still  to  a  large  part  of  mankind  ;  I 
can  imagine  even  these  hardly  pmpared  to 
admit  that  all  religions,  down  to  tlie  lowest 
fetichism,  have,  in  their  places,  fuKiiied  use- 
ful functions.  If  such,  however,  will  con- 
sistently develop  their  ideas,  they  will  find 
this  inference  involved. 

For  if  it  be  true  that  humanity  in  its  cor- 
popdfe  as  well  as  in  its  individual  aspcit,  is 
a  growth  and  not  a  manufacture,  it  is  ob- 
vious that  during  each  plia.se  men's  theolo- 
gies, as  well  as  their  political  and  social  ar- 
rangements, must  be  determined  into  such 
forms  as  the  conditions  require.  In  the  one 
case  as  in  the  other,  by  a  tentative  process, 
things  fiom  time  to  time  resettle  tlmmselves 
in  a  way  that  best  consists  with  national 
equilibrium.  As  out  of  plots  and  the  strug- 
gles of  chieftains,  it  continually  results  that 
the  strongest  gets  to  the  top,  and  by  virtue 
of  his  proved  superiority  insures  a  period  of 
quiet,  and  gives  society  time  to  grow  ;  as  out 
of  incidental  expedients  there  periodically 
arise  new  divisions  of  labor,  which  get  per- 
manently established  only  by  serving  men's 
wants  better  than  the  previous  arnauge- 
ments  did  ;  so,  the  creed  which  each  period 
evolves  is  one  more  in  conformity  with  tlie 
needs  of  the  time  tlian  the  cjeed  which  pre- 
ceded it.  Not  to  rest  in  general  statements, 
however,  let  us  consider  why  this  must  be 
so.  Let  us  fee  wliether,  in  the  genesis  of 
men's  ideas  of  deity,  there  is  not  involved  a 
necessity  to  conceive  of  deity  under  the  as- 
pect most  influential  with  them. 

It  is  now  generally  admitted  that  a  more 
or  less  idealized  humanity  is  the  form  which 
every  conception  of  a  personal  God  must 
take.  Anthropomorphism  is  an  inevitable 
result  of  the  laws  of  thought.  We  cannot 
take  a  step  toward  cous4ru'jtiug  an  idea  of 
God  witliout  the  ascription  of  human  attri- 
butes. We  cannot  even  speak  of  a  divine 
will  without  assimilating  tlie  divine  natuie  to 
our  own  ;  lor  we  know  nothing  of  volition 
save  as  a  propertj'  of  our  own  minds. 

While  this  auihioDi.moiphic  tendency,  or 


rather  necessity,  is  manifested  by  themselves 
with  sufficient  grossness — a  grossness  that  is 
offensive  to  those  more  advanced — Christians 
are  indignant  at  the  still  grosser  manifesta- 
tions of  it  seen  among  uncivilized  men.  Cer- 
tainly, such  conceptions  as  those  of  some 
Polynesians,  who  believe  that  their  gods  feed 
on  the  souls  of  the  dead,  or  as  those  of  the 
Greeks,  who  ascribed  to  the  personages  of 
their  Pantheon  every  vice,  from  domestic 
(  annibalism  downward,  are  repulsive  enough. 
But  if,  ceasing  lo  regard  these  notions  from 
the  outside,  we  more  philosophically  regard 
then:  from  the  inside — if  we  consider  how 
they  looked  lo  believers,  and  observe  the 
relationships  they  bore  to  the  natures  and 
needs  of  such,  we  shall  begin  to  think  of 
then,  with  scuiie  tolerance.  The  question  to 
be  answeied  is,  wlielher  these  beliefs  were 
beneficent  in  their  effecls  on  those  who  held 
them  ;  not  whether  they  would  be  beneficent 
for  us,  or  for  perfect  men  ;  and  to  this  ques- 
tion the  answer  must  be  that  while  absolutely 
bad,  (hey  were  relatively  good. 

For  it  is  not  obvious  that  the  savage  man 
will  be  most  elTettiially  controlled  by  his 
feais  of  a  savage  deity  '!  Must  it  not  happen, 
that  if  his  nature  requires  great  restraint,  the 
f-upposed  consequences  of  transgression,  to 
be  a  check  upon  liim,  must  be  proportion- 
ately terrible  ;  and  for  these  to  be  proportion- 
ately teriible,  must  not  his  god  be  conceived 
as  proportionately  cruel  and  revengeful  ?  Is 
it  not  well  that  the  tieacherous,  thievish, 
lying  Hindoo  should  believe  in  a  hell  where 
the  wicked  are  boiled  in  caldrons,  rolled 
down  mountains  biistling  with  knives,  and 
sawn  asundtr  between  flaming  iron  posts? 
And  that  there  may  be  provided  such  a  hell, 
is  it  not  needful  that  he  should  believe  in  a 
divinity  delighting  in  human  immolations 
and  the  self  torture  of  fakirs?  Does  it  not 
seem  clear  that  during  the  earlier  ages  in 
Christendom,  wlien  men's  feelings  were  so 
hard  that  a  holy  father  could  describe  one  of 
the  delights  of  heaven  to  be  the  contemplation 
of  the  torments  of  the  damned — does  it  not 
i^cem  clear  that  while  the  general  nature  was 
so  unsympathetic,  there  needed,  to  keep  men 
in  order,  all  the  prospective  tortures  de- 
scribed by  Dante  and  a  deity  implacable 
enough  to  inflict  them  ? 

And  if,  as  we  thus  see,  it  is  weli  for  the 
savage  man  to  believe  in  a  savage  god,  then 
we  may  also  see  the  great  usefulness  of  this 
anthropomorpliie  tendency  ;  or,  as  before 
said,  necessity.  We  have  in  it  another  illus- 
tration of  that  essential  beneficence  of  things 
visible  everywhere  throughout  nature. 
From  this  inability  under  which  we  labor  to 
conceive  of  a  deity  save  as  some  idealization 
of  ourselves,  it  inevitably  results  that  in  each 
age,  among  each  people  and  to  a  great  ex- 
tent in  each  individual,  there  must  arise  just 
that  concepli»n  of  deity  best  adapted  to  the 
needs  of  the  case.  If  being  violent  and 
bloodthirsty  the  nature  be  one  calling  for 
stringent  control,  it  evolves  the  idea  of  a  ruler 
still  more  violent  and  bloodthirsty,  and  fitted 
to  afford  this  control.     When  by  ages  of  so- 


PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND   CAUSE. 


385 


dal  discipline  the  nature  has  been  parlially 
humanized,  and  the  degree  of  restraint  re- 
quired has  became  less,  the  diabolical  char- 
acteristics before  ascribed  to  the  deity  cease 
to  be  so  predominant  in  the  conception  of 
him.  And  gmdualiy,  as  all  need  for  n. 
straint  disappears,  this  conception  approxi- 
mates toward  that  of  a  purely  beneficent 
necessity.  Thus,  man's  constitution  is  in 
this,  as  in  other  respects,  self  adjusting, 
self-balancing.  The  mind  itself  evolves  a 
compensating  check  to  its  own  movements, 
varying  always  in  proportion  to  the  require- 
ment. Its  centrifugal  and  its  centripetal 
forces  are  necessarily  in  correspondence,  be- 
cause the  one  generates  the  other.  And  so 
we  find  that  the  forms  of  both  religious  and 
secular  rule  follow  the  same  law.  As  an  ill- 
controlled  national  character  produces  a  de- 
spotic terrestrial  government,  so  also  does  it 
produce  a  despotic  celestial  government — the 
one  acting  through  the  senses,  the  other 
through  the  imagination  ;  and  in  the  con- 
verse case  the  same  relationship  holds  good. 

Organic  as  this  relationship  is  in  its  origin, 
no  aitificial  interference  can  permanently 
affect  it.  Whatever  perturbations  an  exter- 
nal agency  may  seem  to  produce,  they  are 
soon  neutralized  in  fact,  if  not  in  appearance. 
1  was  recently  struck  with  this  in  reading  a 
missionary  a(;count  of  the  "  gracious  visita- 
tions of  the  Holy  Spirit  at  Vewa, "  one  of  the 
Fejee  Islands.  Describing  a  "  penitent 
meeting,"  the  account  says  : 

"  Certainly  the  feelings  of  the  Vewa  peo- 
ple were  not  ordinary.  They  literally 
roared  for  hours  together  for  the  disquie- 
tude of  their  souls.  This  frequently  leimi- 
nated  in  fainting  from  exhaustion,  which 
was  the  only  respite  some  of  them  had  till 
they  found  peace.  They  no  sooner  recovered 
their  consciousness  than  they  prayed  them- 
selves tirst  into  an  agony,  then  again  into  a 
state  of  entire  insensibility." 

Now  these  Fejee  Islanders  are  the  most 
savage  of  all  the  uncivilized  races.  They 
are  given  to  cannibalism,  infanticide,  and 
human  sacrifices  ;  they  are  so  bloodthirsty 
and  so  treacherous  that  members  of  the  same 
family  dare  not  trust  each  other  ;  and,  in 
harmony    with    these    characteristics,    they 


have  for  their  aboriginal  god,  a  serpent.  Is  it 
not  clear,  then,  that  these  violent  emoticna 
which  the  missionaries  describe,  these  ter- 
rors and  agonies  of  despair  which  they  re- 
joiced over,  were  nothing  but  the  worship  of 
the  old  god  under  a  new  name  ?  It  is  not 
clear  that  these  Fejees  had  simply  under- 
stoo<l  those  parts  of  the  Christian  creed 
whitii  agree  in  spirit  with  their  own — the 
vengennce,  the  perpetual  torments,  the  dia- 
bolism of  it  ;  that  these,  harmonizing  with 
their  natural  conceptions  of  divine  rule,  were 
realized  by  them  with  extreme  vividness  ; 
and  that  the  extremity  of  the  fear  which 
made  them  "  literally  roar  for  hours  to- 
gether," arose  from  the  fact  that  while  tkey 
could  fully  take  in  and  believe  the  punitive 
element,  the  merciful  one  was  beyond  their 
comprehension  ?  This  is  the  obvious  infer- 
ence. And  it  carries  with  it  the  further  one, 
that  in  essence  their  new  belief  was  merely 
their  old  one  under  a  new  form— the  same 
substantial  conception  with  a  different  his- 
tory and  different  names. 

However  great,  therefore,  may  be  the 
seeming  cliange  adventitiously  produced  in 
a  people's  leligion,  the  anthropomorphic  ten- 
dency prevents  it  from  being  other  than  a 
superficial  change — insures  such  modifica- 
tions of  the  new  religion  as  to  give  it  all  the 
potency  of  the  old  one — obscures  whatever 
higher  elements  there  may  be  in  it  until  the 
people  have  reached  the  capability  of  being 
acted  upon  by  them  :  and  so,  re-establishes 
the  equilibrium  between  the  impuKses  and 
tlie  control  they  need.  If  any  one  requires 
detailed  illustrations  of  this,  he  will  find 
them  in  abundance  in  the  history  ot  the  modi- 
fications of  Christianity  throughout  Europe. 

Ceasing  then  to  regard  heathen  theologies 
from  the  personal  point  of  view,  and  consid- 
ering them  solely  with  reference  to  the  func- 
tion they  fulfil  where  they  are  indigenous, 
we  must  recognize  them,  in  common  with  all 
theologies,  as  good  for  their  time  and  places  ; 
and  this  mental  necessity  which  disables  us 
from  conceiving  a  deity  save  as  some  idejili- 
zation  of  ourselves,  we  must  recogniae  as 
the  agency  by  which  harmony  is  produced 
and  maintained  between  every  phase  of  hu- 
Dun  character  and  its  religious  creed. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  Progress:  its  Law  and  Cause 233 

11.  The  Physiolof  y  of  Laughter 253 

111.  The  Orijrin  and  Function  of  Music 858 


9ABm 

TV.  The  Development  Hypothe*!* 287 

V.  The  Social  Organism 269 

VI.  The  Use  of  Anthropomorphism 283 


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